When the Jedi get it wrong
by StarWings009
Summary: She didn't know how she'd gotten mixed up the Jedi Council's plot. Didn't know why they hunted her. Why they feared her. What had driven them to abandon their dearly-held principles to such a mindless pursuit. She didn't even know who she was; the only name she had to go on was a half-remembered fragment of an identity. But she knew she was alive, and perhaps that would be enough.
1. Prologue

Prologue

 _How far we have fallen._

Revan stared out of the viewport at the endless, unchanging starfield. It almost seemed to mock her.

 _We used to be heroes. We saved the galaxy. We've gone from heroes to the very evil we were fighting to destroy._

The stars stared back, distant, unchanging observers.

 _What are we doing now? The dark side… It destroyed us._

No one else on the bridge noticed the dark lord's sudden introspection.

 _The Sith destroy their souls by committing terrible atrocities; the Jedi destroy their souls by removing everything that makes a person alive. Emotion, imagination, individuality, love, all gone. They are dead, empty shells._

"My lord? We are receiving a transmission from the _Leviathan_ for you."

 _I will never go back to the Jedi. The order is flawed, and will fall, one way another. But I will not use the dark side like this anymore. I will use it in balance with the light side, but no more._ _I have to be careful though. I can't let Malak or the others sense the truth._

"My lord?"

 _Oh that's right. Business._ "Yes," Revan replied. "I heard you, captain. Send it through to my quarters."

Revan left the bridge, considering her next course of action. _After I destroy the Jedi order, I will make peace with the republic, and allow our governments to coexist peacefully. Then I will disband the sith order, and allow all force users to choose their own path, without either of our self-destroying doctrines._ For a moment, she wondered what her life would have been like if she'd had that freedom, idly fingering the mandalorian necklace she always wore. _How might the galaxy have been different?_

Four days later, the sith fleet was in orbit around the outer rim world of Deralia, having just finished crushing the republic's weak defenses. Revan stood on the bridge, staring at the wreckage of the enemy vessels with mixed feelings and a sense of foreboding. A sense in the Force… There. More republic ships coming out of hyperspace while the sith fleet was too spread out from chasing down enemy ships to mount an effective defense. And most of them were coming straight for her flagship. _Great. A trap. I thought all those ships spreading across the system like that was suspicious..._

"It's a trap!" the captain screamed.

"No kidding!" Revan laughed. _Wait, WHAT! Did I just say that? I haven't acted like that since… since the mandalorian war. Did falling to the dark side really make me that grumpy?_

The captain stared at her curiously. "Uh… My lord?"

"We don't have time for all that 'My lord' stuff now, captain," she snapped, all business once again. "Bring the rest of the fleet back over and have them prepare to encircle the republic ships."

"At once, my l— At once, sir?"

"That's better."

"Thank you, sir."

Revan watched as the republic ships approached, almost in firing range now. She could clearly sense Bastila Shan, the Jedi order's newest wonder child, on the lead ship. Her and her dammed Battle Meditation. _Fortunately, we have a way around that. An exploding ship does wonders for concentration._ "Captain! Target all our weapons on the lead ship!" she ordered.

Malak stared out at the battle raging between the two fleets. A battle the _Leviathan_ was rapidly approaching. His master's flagship, the _Devastator_ , was clearly taking the brunt of the attack, but it was doing surprisingly well compared to the other ships reinforcing it. Malak frowned thoughtfully. Something was wrong with Darth Revan. He had sensed it three days ago when they had met to plan their latest move against the republic. The light side, surrounding her, but hidden. Enough to hide it from the weak dark Jedi that served them, but not from him. _If Revan is slipping back, or is an imposter, or worse, a jedi spy, I will use the distraction of this battle to destroy her. The Sith cannot afford to have a weak leader._ "Target the enemy ships at random," he snarled at the bridge crew. "And prepare to execute any… unusual… orders I give _immediately, and without complaint_."

"What are you planning, my lord?" Admiral Karath asked softly.

"It is of no concern to you." Malak growled. "Just do as I command." _Insolent fool._

"Sir! Three of the republic dropships got through and landed in the main hanger! The troops and the jedi accompanying them are moving towards the bridge!"

Revan acknowledged the captain with a nod, not really paying attention. In spite of her earlier moment of irrational happiness, she felt empty and saddened. "Why do I have to destroy them?" she whispered to herself. "All I have ever done is destroy. Why can't the jedi order be restored to what it used to be?"

She could hear the captain barking orders to the guards, no doubt ordering them to prepare for and attack and summoning extra guards to defend the bridge. Leaving her hood up, Revan reached up and removed her identity-concealing mask, something she never did around other people. Looking into its reflective surface, she saw that, instead of the evil, poisonous yellow she had gotten used to over the past few years, her eyes were their natural shade of dark blue-green again, and her skin, while naturally pale, was no longer white and dead-looking. _The dark side's corruption is… gone already? I thought it would take longer… Now I have to be even more careful._

"Master, we must hurry!" Bastila exclaimed as the Jedi master she was addressing began to cut through the bridge doors. "Every moment I am not able to use my battle meditation—"

"The Sith will be gaining ground, yes," Master Arden-Rae replied coolly. "But that is not our objective. We are after Revan, remember. The battle is a diversion."

"Doesn't mean we have to lose it," she grumbled.

The Jedi master shifted his lightsaber again. "Oh, I agree. But, we have to keep our priorities in line," he replied. "Ah, there we go."

The doors hissed open with a spray of sparks as Master Rae withdrew his lightsaber and the Jedi and republic soldiers proceeded into the bridge. Blaster bolts came at them from seemingly every direction; most were simply deflected back to their source, although some of the republic soldiers didn't make it through the brief firefight. Within minutes, all the Sith soldiers and officers and dark Jedi on the bridge were dead. Except for one. Darth Revan. But from what Bastila could see, the Dark Lord of the Sith hadn't moved from the forward viewport at all, nor had a single blaster bolt or lightsaber touched her. Even as the Jedi marched towards her, she still kept her back to them, staring out the viewport ant the rapidly escalating battle.

A republic officer stepped forward. "Darth Revan," he officiously proclaimed, "You are hereby placed under arrest for no less than two thousand, three-hundred-and-twenty-seven violations of numerous treaties and laws, inclu—"

"Oh, shut up," Revan snapped, turning to face them. "I've heard heard enough of republic officiousness for a lifetime. As has the rest of the galaxy." Bastila noticed Revan was holding her mask in her hands, and even stranger, her face showed no signs of the dark side's telltale corruption.

"Stop hiding behind that pretty illusion, traitor!" another Jedi master shouted. "Show us your real face! Show us how you have been corrupted!"

"How do you know this isn't my real face?" Revan asked. "What do you know about the dark side?"

The Jedi master looked briefly confused, but then composed himself, straightening up to face the dark lord. "No matter, then. You will surrender and come with us to await trial for your crimes."

"What makes you think that?" Revan angrily demanded. "You can't force me to do anything. The Jedi have no power over me. Not now, not ever. You will _not_ turn me into another one of your empty drones for the council to do with as they please."

Master Rae sighed. "Only the Jedi council has the authority and wisdom to oversee correct use of the Force," he recited in a bored way, like he was sick of saying it. "They know what we must—"

"And that's the problem with the Jedi," Revan replied sadly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You think you always have to be right about everything. So _arrogant_. So _delusional_. So _wrong_. And then, you take away everything that makes a person alive. You can't just shut down emotion. It doesn't work like that. The Sith are not much better, but at least they let people be more true to who they are. They let them _live_ —and die, I suppose—as people. You just let people… exist. As empty shells. You can't have compassion if you don't have a heart. Your order used to be so much more. How did it come to this?"

Revan said all this in a sad, disappointed tone that was not at all what Bastila had expected from a Sith lord. It didn't make sense.

"But," she said sadly, "You aren't just going to let me walk away from this fight, are you? No? I thought not. Typical Jedi arrogance. So be it."

With that, Revan dropped her mask to the deck with a loud clang as she ignited her lightsaber and charged at the Jedi.

 _Now. Do it. Take what is rightfully yours…_

Malak's eyes snapped open. "Target all weapons on the _Devastator's_ bridge! Now!"

Admiral Karath looked shocked. "But, Lord Malak, Revan is our best commander by far! If you kill her now—"

"We are close enough to victory anyway!" Malak crowed victoriously. "FIRE!"

Revan cut down two of the Jedi with ease and then turned to face Bastila and Master Rae. Strangely, Bastila couldn't sense her drawing on the dark side at all. Unexpectedly, fire from the _Leviathan_ slammed into the _Devastator_. Revan and Master Rae took the full force of an explosion and were thrown across the room. Bastila and the republic officer fell to the deck, unharmed for the moment.

"Are they dead?" the officer asked, glaring at Revan. Bastila made her way over to the Sith lord as more explosions rocked the ship.

"No, they're both alive, but unconscious. And unharmed. We have to get them off this ship as soon as possible."

The republic officer grabbed a blaster rifle. "Why not just finish the job?"

"Revan has key information about the Sith's plans. We need her alive so we can interrogate her," Bastila replied.

"All right, fine." The officer grumbled. "Let's get them back to the ship. Don't expect her to give you anything, though."

They made their way back to the hanger bay, Bastila carrying Revan, the officer carrying Master Rae.


	2. 1: Jedi Secrets and Sith Battleships

Captain Carth Onasi tried not to glare too openly at the Jedi who'd taken over his ship. Oh sure, they fought for the Republic. Oh sure, their prodigal child was supposedly all that was standing between Darth Malak and the galaxy. Oh sure, they could defeat an entire battalion of Sith troopers alone. But that didn't give them the right to stare down their noses at everyone else and act like they and they alone knew what was right.

 _Just like those stuck-up politicians back on Coruscant. But the Jedi are worse than politicians—they're politicians with reality-bending powers. And they're supposed to save us…_

Keeping one eye on the Jedi standing at the front of the bridge, Carth idly strode over to where his first officer was monitoring the ship's systems.

"Are the Jedi Masters in the security room again, lieutenant?" He asked. Softly. Too softly for the Jedi to hear, although who could be sure with them.

"Yes sir, they are," She replied evenly and just as softly, almost as if they were discussing day-to-day business instead of suspicious actions that didn't fit in with the mission profile.

Carth straightened up. "You have the bridge, lieutenant."

"Good luck, sir," she replied with a knowing smile.

Overriding the lock on the security room was a simple matter; even if the Jedi were in command, they couldn't do anything about the hardwired high level clearance codes that allowed a captain to access any part of the ship he commanded. The door slid open silently. The security room was a small windowless room just aft of the bridge. It contained numerous screens and control panels for monitoring various parts of the ship. Currently, three Jedi were clustered around the largest one. It showed a view of the mess hall, in particular, a table occupied by pilots and junior officers.

"Don't you ever look?" one of the Jedi Masters inquired jovially. "I'm sure there's a bylaw somewhere in the Republic Fleet Rulebook, or whatever it is you call it, that _says_ that you have to knock?"

Despite the suspicious nature of the gathering, Carth couldn't help but crack a brief smile at that. Well, Master Rae, I could have a look for you, I suppose. Not saying I'll find anything, though."

"Indeed not. It's probably written in that absurd dialect that lawyers, politicians and doctors speak."

Both of them laughed. The other two Jedi, however…

 _Master Arden-Rae's alright. Master Shakora's pretty much a strong and silent career solider without a sense of humor, but Bastila, on the other hand…_

Bastila Shan, in Carth's opinion the most stuck-up and prissy Jedi in the universe, not only failed to laugh, but turned a withering glare on Carth and said, in a very stuck-up way,

"Captain Onasi, this is _hardly_ the time for jokes. In any case, you are not—"

"Just because you do not appreciate humor, Padawan," Master Shakora interjected, "Does not mean others do not. It is good for morale," she finished.

"Kidding aside, what's going on here, masters?" Carth asked. "Every time you're in here—which is every bit of your spare time, and more besides—you're watching ensign Deran on the security cameras. I never really thought of the Jedi as stalkers, but what is going on here?"

"Ensign Ashla Deran," Bastila snapped, "Is none of your concern."

"Excuse me, but she is! She is a member of my crew, and, as such, I'm responsible for her. The same as every officer is responsible for his or her subordinates. Maybe you've forgotten this while you've been walking around with your noses in the air, stalking people and acting like you rule the universe!" By this point, Carth was red-faced and shouting. "You have no authority and no right to invade my crew's privacy like this, and, even if you have a search warrant or proof they're enemy spies, that doesn't justify—"

"Enough." Master Shakora held up a hand, gesturing him to stop. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we have no choice."

"She represents a potential security risk." Master Rae sighed.

"Masters—" Bastila began, but Carth cut her off.

"There was _nothing_ in her file that said she is a security risk, and if she is, you should have notified me _before she came aboard_!"

"Some matters are only the Jedi's concern!" Bastila shouted back.

"I don't care about your stupid Jedi secrecy right now." Another thought occurred to him. "And, if she's so dangerous, why the hell did you order her transferred to the _Endar Spire_ in the first place?!"

Before any of the Jedi could answer, the ship rocked, throwing them all to the deck.

"Engines, weapons, and communications systems destroyed, sir. The _Endar Spire_ is dead in space."

"Cease fire," Karath ordered. "Send in the boarding parties. And make sure they remember that Lord Malak wants Bastila alive."

"Yes sir!" The officer saluted, then rushed off to convey Karath's orders. Something else then caught the admiral's attention.

"Lord Malak?"

Malak ignored him. Something was hovering out there in the Force, at the edge of his perception. Something familiar… Something too close to those Jedi masters for him to make out. This would bear investigating, though.

"Lord Malak?"

Malak snapped himself out of his meditation. "Yes, admiral?"

Karath lowered his voice. "A report from the Star Forge, my Lord. Some of the Rakata managed to gain access to the Temple, and used the disruptor field to destroy several ships before they were killed."

"Interesting. I didn't think they'd dare enter the Temple. Station some more Dark Jedi on guard duty down there. Clearly battle droids aren't enough."

"Yes, Lord Malak."

As Karath scurried off, Malak returned his attention to that oddly familiar Force presence. _Whoever, whatever you are, I will find you…_

Carth stumbled onto the bridge as the _Endar Spire_ shook under heavy fire.

"Damage Report!?"

"Engines, long-range communications, and main weapons destroyed, captain!" the first officer replied. "There are over 20 sith battleships closing on us, and we have assault shuttles coming in!"

Carth took a deep breath. There was no way they could win against these odds, or even escape. All they could do was survive.

"All hands! Abandon Ship!" Carth screamed into the intercom panel. "That means us as well," he told the bridge crew. "We don't have a chance. All we can do is keep the sith away from the escape pod bays until everyone's off the ship."

Several sith fighters roared past the viewports. Two republic fighters were in pursuit, but they wouldn't last long. Carth ran back to the communications console and punched up what was left of the short-range systems.

"You two, get yourselves out of here!" he yelled at the fighter pilots. "There's too many of them! You have to run!"

"Perhaps you're right." The pilot responded. "As good as Master Shakora and I are, we can't fight an entire fleet."

"Master Rae?"

"Who else? Carth, you don't have much time. Make sure the sith don't capture ensign Deran."

"Why? I thought you said she's possibly an enemy spy?"

The Jedi master seemed to hesitate. "Well… better a nerf in the hand than two in the wilds, captain. Besides, I don't think she's a spy."

"Then why all the spying on her?"

"We'll discuss it later, assuming we survive. Rae out."

Carth shook his head. Jedi were cryptic at the best of times, and this was the _worst_ of times to have to be figuring out their riddles. Carth let his eyes wander around the bridge, surveying the remaining bridge crew, the few soldiers, and finally coming to rest on the forward viewports. Out there, hanging in space like death itself, was a massive interdictor-class battleship he knew very well. The _Leviathan_. Commanded by that murderer Saul Karath. That murderer Carth had sworn he would one day—

The door was blasted open as several republic soldiers backed into the bridge, firing as they did. Carth and the bridge crew added their own blasterfire to the deadly storm, and for a moment it seemed as if they could drive back the hordes of sith soldiers. But then, a tall bald man with a goatee and a massive double-bladed lightsaber charged out of the sith's ranks to stand in front of them, deflecting every blast the republic soldiers fired. The Jedi who had been on the bridge charged at the Dark Jedi, only to be quickly cut down. With her last breath, she managed to bring the ceiling down, blocking the corridor.

"That stopped them," the second-last remaining soldier said, spitting on the wreckage.

"Only until our friend with the lightsaber cuts through it." Carth reminded him. "Is ensign Deran here?"

"Right over there," the soldier replied, pointing to a young woman with shoulder length black hair, pale skin, and dark, blue-green eyes who was tying a bandage around a blaster wound on her upper left arm. "Why?"

"Master Rae wanted to know," Carth muttered uneasily. "Ensign, uh, ensign—?"

"Trask Ulgo, sir."

"Right, ensign Ulgo, what's the status of the rest of the ship?"

"Completely overrun, sir."

"Right." Carth sighed. The mission was a total loss. Again. "You two, we're going for the bridge escape pod bay. No useless heroics. We've lost this battle."

As they made their way down the corridor to the escape pods, Carth noticed a red lightsaber cutting through a door that led back to the command section. Trask swore colorfully and drew his vibroblade.

"You two go on ahead. I'll hold him off." Trask snapped.

"I told you, no useless heroics—" Carth began.

"You don't stand a chance against a Dark Jedi," ensign Deran added.

"Nice knowing you, Ashla, captain Onasi. Now get out of here!" Trask yelled.

She shook her head. "We're not leaving you behind. You don't sand a chance!" she yelled, gesturing to the red lightsaber.  
"I don't stand a chance," Trask sighed, in an oddly blank way, and followed them to the escape pods. Carth's eyes narrowed. Something didn't seem right about that.

"Well come on, are you just going to stand there?" Trask inquired from inside the escape pod.

"I know they say that a captain goes down with his ship, but…" Ashla muttered.

Carth shook his head again and followed them in. Behind him, a lightsaber started cutting through the door to the escape pod bay.

"Go! Hurry!" Trask shouted as Carth climbed into the pod. Ashla slammed the hatch shut and launched the escape pod.

"Just in time."

"Too close."

"I am never doing that again."

"Get used to it."

"Well, there aren't always going to be Dark Jedi cutting their way into escape pod bays."

Carth looked out the escape pod's tiny viewport at the planet below. The surface looked far too close.

"Uh, that skyscraper's getting a little too—"

There was a flash of light, and the sound of tearing metal, then everything went black.


	3. 2: Unhappy Landings

The escape pod crashed through a balcony hanging off the side of the skyscraper, bounced off a large, fancy-looking airspeeder, smashed through a communications array on top of a shorter tower, bounced off another tower, before finally skidding the length of a large boulevard, bouncing off a rather shabby airspeeder, sending it careening down a side street, where it finished up by crashing into a large refuse bin.

Ashla staggered into the dilapidated apartment building, Carth and Trask weighing on her shoulders like two massive piles of durasteel bars. The circular corridor was dotted with blaster scars, piles of rubbish, holes with damaged circuitry hanging out of them, and other general property damage. There were no signs of life except for a green-skinned twi'lek snoring with his feet up on what might have once been some sort of reception desk.

Ashla dropped Carth and Trask onto an ancient, shredded couch and limped over to the desk.

"Help," she gasped. "We just… need somewhere to…"  
The twi'lek's eyes snapped open, then widened in shock as the chair he was reclining on fell over with a crash. The twi'lek popped up from behind the desk again, took one look at her, then gulped.

"Ah." He said. "Yes, you do. Follow me."

He picked up Trask and unceremoniously dragged him to a door a little further down the corridor.

"You can have this room. Don't worry, the sith won't find you here," he said, then seemed to change his mind. "Well, they might come down here occasionally, but…"

"Is this place safe from the sith or not?" Ashla interrupted.

"Well, nowhere is _really_ safe from those scum, but this is safe enough for now."

Ashla nodded, trying to ignore her growing headache, and dumped Carth on one of the beds.

The twi'lek lifted Trask onto the other bed, and turned to her. "The name's Larrim, by the way. I run a small store at my desk back there."

"I'm Ashla."

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Larrim nodded, and turned towards the door.

"So, what do you have at your shop?" she asked.

"Oh, just some low-quality black market equipment and weapons. I can't get anything better with the sith everywhere," he replied as he left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes.

"Here, you'll need these. I see you have weapons, so anything else you want from my shop, you'll have to buy." He handed her the clothes and turned to leave again.

"Wait," Ashla blurted.

Larrim stopped. "Yes?"

"Why are you helping us?"

Larrim sighed. "I'm not doing this for your war and I'm certainly not taking sides. I'm doing this because I'd do the same for anyone in your situation, regardless of what side of the war they're on. I'm doing this because I know that the governments are the ones who want the war, not the people. Especially not the conscripts."

 _What? How did he…_ "How do you know I was conscripted?" she inquired.

"You live and work on the other side of the law, you learn to read people, or you end up dead. Down here, knowledge is power, and often life."

Ashla shrugged. "I'll remember that."

"Good. It will keep you alive longer." Larrim replied. The door shut behind him as he made his way back to his shop.

After the door closed behind Larrim, Ashla quickly changed into some of the clothes he had given her—tight black pants, black boots, a white sleeveless shirt, and a long brown leather coat—before placing the other clothes beside the beds and checking on her two unconscious crewmates. Fortunately, Trask was uninjured, but Carth had a nasty head injury that had probably given him a concussion. Sighing, she sat down on the couch, sitting her blaster rifle down next to her. Fighting against the exhaustion engulfing her entire body. _Have to stay awake, remember? Have to keep an eye out for the sith, have to…_

After the pain and insanity of the past few hours, sleep was almost blissful.

 _Someone was screaming at her._

 _"_ _Wake up!"_

 _Ashla tried to focus on the voice. It sounded like hers._

 _"_ _Wake up! Remember who you are!"_

 _"_ _What…" She tried to reply. "Who are you? What do you mean?"_

 _"_ _You have to remember who you are!" the strange voice urged. "You are not a republic soldier! Remember your other life! Your real life! Before they took your memory! Wake up"_

 _The other…_ presence _… seemed to reach for her. "You know nothing of who you are, not even your real name. REMEMBER!"_

 _The presence solidified into a constellation of swirling dark and light standing in a grey haze. Images burst through her mind. Ships exploding, lightsabers flashing, blasters screaming, a man in mandalorian armor removing his mask and letting it fall to the ground, a woman in black armor removing a different mask and letting it fall to the deck of a ship. A strange mandalorian symbol hanging on a silver chain. A name, a face—_

 _A different presence approached.. This one was a burning vortex of light that felt somehow… wrong. Empty. Dead. The constellation-like presence shrank back, hiding away from it, but lingered long enough for one final plea._

 _"_ _Remember, Jessa…"_

 _"_ _THERE IS NO EMOTION, THERE IS PEACE" The empty presence blared. Its voice was more prim, snooty, and arrogant._

 _"_ _THERE IS NO—"_

 _The arrogant voice suddenly cut off as if it had run into an invisible wall, and the presence projecting it vanished, a fact Ashla was extremely grateful for. It had felt so empty and yet so full of itself. In its absence, a new strength and awareness filled her. The other presence cautiously reappeared._

 _"_ _Did you get rid of it?" Ashla asked it._

 _"_ _No. It was blocked from your mind. I will teach you how to do that when there is time, but now, you must WAKE UP!"_

Ashla jerked awake with a gasp.

"What…Who?" There was a thud, and no small amount of cursing from one of the bedrooms.

"Hello?"

Ashla got to her feet, noticing as she did so that her wounded arm hurt less and she felt more alive and energized.

Trask stumbled out of the room. "Ashla…?"

"We're in an abandoned apartment," she told him. "It's safe here, for now."

Trask looked around thoughtfully. "Right. And where's the captain?"  
"Sleeping off a concussion, I think… how are you?"

"I'll do." Trask rolled his shoulders experimentally. "You alright?"

"I think so," Ashla muttered. "In fact, I feel pretty beaten up, but, somehow, better that ever. Like I'm more alive than I used to be. Like my mind was tightly wrapped up in cloths and now it's not. I don't get it. And I had a really weird dream that didn't feel like a dream."

Trask looked at her carefully. "You don't look any different, except for your eyes. They look… I don't know… more alive. But, we'll worry about this if it becomes a problem. So, what have we got. What can we do from here?"  
Ashla shrugged. "Well, we've got the sith ruling the planet, 500 credits, two blaster rifles, two blaster pistols, four vibroblades, a helpful black market arms dealer/philanthropist who might be able to help us, Captain Carth Onasi and his two blaster pistols, no way off the planet, a lot of anti-sith-anti-republic sentiment on said planet, some civilian clothes, and the two of us. Oh, and no word on any of the jedi."

Trask shrugged. "They're probably hiding somewhere, unless of course they made it out of the system or died trying. What did you say about an arms dealer?"

Ashla and Trask stopped in front of Larrim's desk. "Hello again."

"Looking to buy something?" the twi'lek asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Ashla replied. "We need some spare blaster pistol and rifle ammo, some light or medium armor for 3 people, and some medical supplies."

"Is that all?"

Ashla was about to reply when a memory rose up that, strangely enough, felt more like it was part of her than anything else she could remember. Well, except for that dream. "And a double-bladed vibrosword, if you have one."

Larrim shrugged. "Well, I just so happen to have some of those as well. Excuse me while I get your purchases."

Larrim returned, shutting the door behind his desk. "Here you go. That's 50 credits each for the two light armor vests, 100 for the medium armor vest, and 50 for the ammo and medical supplies."

"We'll take it," Ashla said. "Thank you, Larrim."

"A pleasure doing business with you." Larrim replied graciously.

Carth woke up with a groan. His head hurt like nothing else and he appeared to be alone in a dingy apartment. His blasters, fortunately, were sitting next to the bed. He grabbed them and slipped them back into their holsters, relishing the familiar weight. He then drew them immediately as a door hissed, or more accurately clanked open in the next room. Pressing his ear to the door, he could hear snatches of a conversation.

"—think the Captain's woken up yet?" A vaguely familiar voice said.

"One way to find out," another voice, this one female, answered. Carth opened the door before their footsteps could reach it, and snapped his blasters up to point at them. The two ensigns who had been in the escape pod with him stepped back in surprise, and the woman, Ensign Deran if he remembered correctly, lashed out with a sweeping kick that sent his blasters flying across the room before stepping back even further with an even more surprised expression on her face.

"Oh, uh… sorry sir, I…"

Carth smiled. "It's ok, I was the one pointing a blaster at you. I should apologize. That was a pretty impressive kick, by the way."

She shrugged irreverently. "I guess it was. Thanks."

"Sir, do you feel alright?" the male ensign—Trask Ulgo—asked.

"Well, I have a headache the size of a small star, and more bruises than I can count, but I'll be fine." Carth answered. "What's the situation?"

Ashla answered him. "We've been here for a few days, you've been out for most of it. We don't know if there are any other survivors. We managed to get some medical supplies and armor from a black market dealer, and some food from a nearby cantina."

"So no word on Bastila, then?" Carth asked quietly.

"The _padawan_ who took over your command? No." Trask replied.

"We have to find her!" Carth exclaimed, alarmed.

"Oookkaayyy…why? She's a Jedi. While I don't respect their philosophy, I respect their combat skills. She can take care of herself." Ashla answered.

"She's vitally important to the war effort!" Carth groaned. "And now she's missing on a sith-controlled planet?"

"Ok, ok, fine. We get it. This Jedi is important." Ashla sighed. "From what we know, most of the escape pods crashed into the Undercity or the Lower City. We were lucky enough to hit the Upper City. So that's where we should start looking."

Carth sighed, remembering what he knew of Taris and its multilevel society. "Ok, let's get going. The sooner we find her; the sooner we can get off this rock."

"Don't forget about Master Rae and Master Shakora," Ashla reminded him, pulling on the medium armor vest on over her shirt and then replacing her coat over it. "If we're looking for Jedi, we should find them as well."

"Let's get going." Trask said eagerly, grabbing a light armor vest and tossing the other one to Carth, along with some of the spare ammo and a vibroblade.

Ashla stuck her vibroblades through her belt, holstered her blaster pistol, and picked up her blaster rifle. Trask did the same with his blasters and vibroblade. Carth stuck his vibroblade through his belt, picked up his blasters, and the three of them left the apartment.


	4. 3: Into the Lower City

Jedi Master Asori Shakora was discovering exactly why the Lower City of Taris was called that. Not only was it, in fact, lower down, it was also home to what many would say was a lower form of civilization. A lower form of civilization whose members were trying to drag her and Master Rae down to their level.

"C'mon, darling, don't be so uptight, we can…"

The Jedi Master sighed. "Is the entire population of this planet made up of drunken idiots?"

"It would appear so," Master Rae muttered. "And that's not even counting the Sith. We never should have come to this cantina."  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Canderous watched the kiffar woman and zabrak man curiously. Though they were wearing armor, and were armed with a blaster and vibroblade each, they didn't look like mercenaries or enforcers. They were far too disciplined for that; obviously they had to be soldiers. Sith? No. The Sith wouldn't be making such an effort to be inconspicuous. Not on a planet they ruled, anyway. Republic? Possibly survivors of the recent battle?

Looking around, Canderous noticed he wasn't the only one taking an interest in the soldiers. Calo Nord was also watching them, although the shorter man would try to hide it. And, unsurprisingly, Mission Vao and her wookiee bodyguard. Canderous made up his mind to find out how she had acquired the being's allegiance later. But for now… Now he watched as the two got up and left the cantina, then followed them out.

Canderous Ordo had no love for the Republic, but it had been the Sith who had manipulated his people into a war that had destroyed them. Not that the war hadn't been glorious in every sense of the word, not that they hadn't gotten to match wits with possibly the greatest military leader the galaxy had ever seen, but, no Mandalorian liked being fooled. Especially not by an empire run by unscrupulous Force-users with no concept of honor.

Heading back to their hideout, the two Jedi Masters turned off into a side street sensing someone following them.

"Arden, someone's following us. Why don't we show him the error of his ways?" Asori whispered.

"Sure. You hide there, and I'll hide over here."

It wasn't too long before the Mandalorian cautiously stepped into the side street, surveying it with his massive blaster rife before continuing towards their hiding places. Despite not having a Jedi's command of the Force, he seemed to sense something was off. He slung his blaster rifle over his shoulder and drew a vibrosword, then continued, more cautiously. He then stopped outside their hiding place.

"I don't mean you any harm," the mandalorian said. "I'm here to talk. I have an opportunity that may benefit both of us."

The Jedi, sensing the truth in his words, stepped out. "What do you want?" Asori demanded.

The mandalorian smirked. "Either you're completely stupid to have stepped out of cover without checking first, or, you're a Jedi. And waiting in ambush like that isn't something stupid people would do. So, Jedi, did you fight in the war?"

The sudden change of subject caught her off guard. "What?"

"Exactly what I said."

Asori nodded, not sure why he wanted to know. "Yes, from the very start. We were among the first to join Revan."

The mandalorian's smile widened. "Good. I have no respect for people who won't fight to defend their people and their way of life"

 _Right. Right…_ "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Is there anyone around to overhear us?"

Asori shook her head.

"Good. My name is Canderous Ordo," he replied. "And, as for what I want, I want to get off this planet. My employer hasn't been paying me what I promised, so I figure it's time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get out of here."

"And why should we help you?" Master Rae asked skeptically.

"Here's the deal—I need you to break into the Sith military base in the Upper City North Plaza. You get those codes, and I can provide the vehicle to get us off the planet. The fastest ship in the sector. Davik Kang's flagship. The _Ebon Hawk_!"

The tow Jedi stepped back. "Arden?" she whispered.

"I think we can trust him. I don't sense him lying."

"Neither do I… Ok, Canderous, you've got a deal. On one condition."

Canderous shrugged. "Fine."

"We've got some friends who also crashed somewhere onto the planet. We won't leave without them."

Canderous nodded. "Fair enough. I'll help you find your friends, you break into the base, then we all get out of here. Deal?" He held out a hand.

Asori shook it. "Deal."

Making their way through the Upper City, Ashla, Trask, and Carth were accosted four times on their way to the Lower City. First came a shifty-looking man wanting them to help him get the cure for a terrible disease so that he could sell it to a local crime lord. They turned him down, then immediately ran into several young Tarisian nobles, who took offense when Carth refused to kneel to them. They ran off, promising dire retribution from their parents. Next they rescued an ageing ithorian from several children who were beating him up, and helped him get to a medical facility. Lastly, they met an old human street preacher who was screaming about the superiority of humans. Ashla couldn't resist kicking him in the jaw, knocking him out. Many passers-by and, strangely enough, two nearby Sith troopers cheered her on.

Arriving at the elevator, they found the two Sith troopers who had cheered her on replacing the other ones on duty.

Ashla stepped forward. "We'd like to go down to the Lower City."

The Sith trooper nodded. "Normally, I'd ask for authorization, but, since you gave that old creep what he so richly deserved, I'll let you past."

The other Sith glanced at his partner. "Sarna, are you sure?"

"Of course, Yun," she replied. "That maniac deserved that and more." The Sith turned back to Ashla. "Just be careful down there. There's a swoop gang war going on down there, and they'll take a shot at anyone, even Sith patrols."

"Thanks for the warning." Ashla stepped into the elevator, followed by Carth and Trask. The doors closed, and the lift began the long descent.

"So, do you have any idea of where your friends are?" Canderous asked the Jedi.

"I can sense them; they're in the Upper City." Asori replied.

Canderous nodded. "Right. Follow me. There's a lift this way." Ugh. Jedi and their precious Force. Although, these two don't seem to rely on it completely, judging by their equipment, weapons, and attitude. So, at least, not all Jedi are overly philosophical idiots who use the Force as a crutch. These two seem to be able to work and fight without it. Unusual.

As they approached the lift, several Black Vulkars slunk out of an alley, spotted Canderous, and slunk back into it.

"You must have quite the reputation down here," the zabrak Jedi muttered.

"Being Davik's top enforcer has its benefits," Canderous admitted. Approaching the lift, Canderous jammed his thumb against the up button. "The lift should be down here in a few minutes."

The Jedi settled in to wait, keeping watch on the surrounding area, both with their eyes and ears, and with the Force.

Mission Vao watched the odd group as they made their way over to the elevator. What was Canderous Ordo doing working with other people?

"Hey, Big Z, what do you think Canderous is up to?" she asked her wookiee companion. "He always works alone, right?"

"(Perhaps he has changed his ways,)" Zalbaar suggested, unusually quietly for the massive wookiee. "(By the way, there are both Hidden Beks and Black Vulkars nearby, in large numbers. If we are not careful we could be caught in the middle of a battle.)"

"Well," Mission suggested. "Let's stay near Canderous. They'll probably avoid him."

Ashla tensed as the doors opened, expecting to meet a swoop gang. She was not expecting to meet two Jedi Masters and a mandalorian. Carth, of course, was ecstatic.

"Master Rae, Master Shakora, you're alive!" he exclaimed.

The mandalorian grunted. "So these are your friends, I take it?"

Ashla barely noticed their reply. The mandalorian had a tattoo on his shoulder. It was the same symbol that she had seen in her dream. Suddenly, she felt like she'd been hit in the head by something hot and sharp. Her mind dissolved into a muddle, and all her memories seemed to blur, and she realized that they didn't feel like hers anymore. Instead, she felt like she was missing a great deal of memories, memories that had somehow been…ripped away. For some reason, icy fear filled her at the sight of the Jedi, but that did nothing to dull the pain in her head.

Carth hadn't expected a lot of things. He hadn't expected to find the two Jedi Masters so quickly. He hadn't expected to see Canderous Ordo again, not after what had happened at their last meeting at Malachor V. He certainly hadn't expected Ashla to fall back against the wall of the lift, clutching her head and moaning.

"Ashla! What's wrong?" he shouted frantically. She didn't reply. Carth was barely aware of the two Jedi flanking him, one putting a hand on the young woman's head. He even ignored the fact that he had just turned his back on a mandalorian. All he could do was watch.

Ashla's mind was a whirlwind of thought and memory. Images, words, thoughts from another life flashed through her mind faster than she could count. Outside of her mind, she was aware of movement, but she couldn't say how. And, to top it all off, that strange constellation-being with her voice was back, though it appeared disoriented. "What is this…" it murmured. "Ah…I see." The fog cleared a little, and the mandalorian symbol swam to the front. "That. You are starting to remember. I knew you would."

"What do you mean, I am starting to remember?" Ashla demanded. "Who are you?"

The being paused. "I am you. Or, at least, a version of you. An aspect of your subconscious mind. A part of you the Jedi's mind wipe couldn't touch."

"What do you mean, the Jedi wiped my mind?" she asked. "How could they?"

The presence visibly darkened, filling with rage. "Because you were different. You didn't follow their philosophy, and saw the truth about them and you stood up to them and fought back. And they captured you and remade your mind in their image."

"That's…horrible." Ashla muttered. Somehow she knew the other being wasn't lying. "Did all of them agree to this?"

"Many did not." The being appeared slightly satisfied. "They two Masters with you now protested it, as did several others. Should you ever return to Dantooine, there is a Master there named Zhar Lestin, who opposed it, but could not overrule the rest of the council, or take matters into his own hands."

Ashla considered this. Everything the being said felt right to her. She just knew, in the deepest parts of her being, that it was the truth.

"If the mind wipe couldn't touch you, can you give me back my memories?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't. You have to remember. But, things from your past, like that symbol, will trigger memories. Build a shoto lightsaber if you get the chance. Talk to Carth and the mandalorian about the last war. Investigate anything you remember. Practice using the Force. There is one thing I can tell you, however."

"What's that?" Ashla asked.

"Your name," the constellation-being replied. "Your real name, not the false one the Jedi gave you."

"I have the WORST luck!" Onasi screamed, as swoop gang members from both gangs converged on their position. Canderous ignored him, and shot several Vulkars trying to get close to him. Curiously, Mission Vao and her wookiee friend had appeared to fight alongside him and the Jedi. Onasi and the other man stood over by the lift. Strangest of all, the girl who had staggered back into the lift clutching her head was currently the most dangerous person on the battlefield. When the swoop gangs had arrived, she had gotten up, drawn a vibroblade, and easily fought off any Vulkars that came near her, dodging and evading attack after attack after attack while cutting down nearby Vulkars with her vibroblade and a blaster pistol. Not a single blaster bolt touched her; some were even deflected off her vibroblade. At one point, she leaped over Vao and deflected a blaster bolt away from the wookiee, a bolt that would have killed him if it had hit. The strangest part? She did it all with her eyes shut. And her fighting style seemed oddly familiar. It reminded him of someone he had met during the war, but he couldn't say who. Then all the Vulkars were dead and oddly familiar blue-green eyes snapped open, staring in surprise at the carnage she had caused. Canderous sighed. He didn't like mysteries. He knew he had to solve this one fast, find out why she seemed so familiar.

Ashla opened her eyes, the name the being—her subconscious? Her past self?—had told her still ringing in her ears. Around her, many swoop gang thugs lay dead, others, probably members of the victorious gang, checked on their fallen comrades. A twi'lek girl, a huge wookiee, and a mandalorian with a huge repeating blaster rifle stood off to the side. Carth, Trask, and the two Jedi stood near the lift. The wookiee, twi'lek, and mandalorian walked over to her, while the Jedi conversed with one of the gang members.

"(You have saved my life. I thank you.)" The wookiee rumbled. What? Since when do I understand shyriiwook?

The mandalorian was watching her carefully. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked warily.

"I don't remember…someone did something to my mind…I think. A Force user. They took my memories and reprogrammed my mind," she replied.

"How is that even possible?" the twi'lek exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"( _Who could have done this?_ )" the wookiee growled, clearly angered.

"No-one deserves that." The mandalorian muttered.

Ashla would have replied, but something told her not to, as Carth, Trask and the Jedi came over.

"I just talked to one of the gang leaders. They're willing to help us find Bastila." Carth told her.

"So _that's_ what a couple of Jedi are doing on Taris," the twi'lek girl blurted out.

"And you are…" Trask muttered.

"Oops, should have introduced us," she replied. "I'm Mission Vao. This wookiee here is Zalbaar, my best friend. And Captain Grumpy over there is Canderous Ordo. I don't really know him."

Ashla laughed. "'Captain Grumpy' is a title that would be better applied to Carth here."

Carth looked shocked. "What—I'm not—"

"You were grumpy even on the _Spire_ , now, you don't trust anyone, and you show it!" Ashla snapped, clearly annoyed. "Anyway, introductions, I guess. That's Trask Ulgo, and Carth Onasi of course, Master Arden-Rae, and Master Asori Shakora."

"Onasi. I thought so." Canderous snarled.

"Canderous Ordo. We meet again." Carth snarled back.

"Can you two get into this later?" Ashla snapped. "Whatever your issue is—"

"Nothing _you_ would understand…" Carth grumbled.

Master Rae stepped forwards. "She's right. We have other things to worry about. Like Bastila."

Carth swore. "How are we going to find her in this mess of a planet?"

"Hmm…" Canderous muttered. "Short, snotty, arrogant, uptight woman? Dark brown hair? A Jedi padawan who acts like she's a Jedi Master?"

"Err… yes! How did you know?" Carth exclaimed.

"The Vulkars captured her, and sold her to Davik as a slave." Canderous replied. "Brejik tried to convince Davik that she was too dangerous, but he insisted. He's probably planning to hold her for ransom to both the Empire and the Republic."

Carth's face was a mask of pure rage. "We have to save her!"

Master Shakora sighed. "Is it really worth the trouble?"

Master Rae was ecstatic. "A joke, Asori! You just made a joke! You have a sense of humor after all!"

"That was not a joke, that was a legitimate suggestion, and, I do have a sense of humor, I just know how to hide it when I'm around Jedi like Bastila, who will give me no end of trouble for not being so emotionless." She replied in a calm but not emotionless tone.

Canderous spoke up. "We can get her out of Davik's Estate—that's where she's being kept—but not until we have the launch codes. Otherwise, we'll be stuck."

"So let's go get the launch codes," Ashla said.

"One problem. We can't get into the base, short of the Jedi cutting their way in, and that's too obvious." Canderous replied.

"Um, excuse me," a voice from behind them said. They all turned to face the speaker. "If you want to get into the base," Mission said shyly, "I happen to know where a lightly guarded service door is. I'll show you where it is, as long as you take me and Zalbaar with you when you escape Taris."

Carth nodded. "I suppose that's acceptable."

"We need someone to slice into their systems anyway." Canderous said. "Can you do that?"

"I can hack their internal security network. I did it a while ago just for fun and and no one noticed." Mission replied.

"Then welcome to the team."

The 'Team' made its way back to the hideout in the Upper City several people at a time, so as to avoid the attention that a large group would draw.


	5. 4: Breaking In

A plan was quickly decided on. Group 1, consisting of Ashla, Trask, Master Rae, and Zalbaar, would enter the base and retrieve the launch codes. Group 2, Carth and Master Shakora, would create a distraction to draw some of the Sith troops away from the base. Group 3, Mission and Canderous, had separate tasks. Mission would hack into the base's security, and Canderous and the Beks would keep Davik's operatives and the Vulkars out of the way.

"Ready?" Asori asked Carth.

"Ready to run like hell!" the pilot replied.

"Then let's do it." Asori stepped around the corner, and, oh-so-casually tripped—right into a Sith trooper.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The soldier snarled.

"Just proving that you Sith don't rule the planet." She replied. "You're going down, core-slime."

"Ok, that's it." The Sith pointed his blaster rifle at her. "You're coming with me."

"I don't think so…" she then drew her lightsaber and beheaded the Sith, the blue blade shining against the dimness of the cloudy sky.

"Jedi!" another Sith trooper cried, the spoke into his comlink, "Send reinforcements, now!"

Sith soldiers flooded into the North Plaza from the base. Asori and Carth ran for the south plaza, as fast as they could without losing their pursuers.

Ashla's comlink crackled to life. "The Imps have left their cave."

"Acknowledged," she replied, then turned off the comlink. With any luck, Mission had gotten the message, and was busy hacking the base's security systems, starting with the security cameras watching the service door.

Safely hidden in a nearby office building, Mission also received the message. Okay…I'm into their systems…freezing security cameras. Now they'll show a picture of those two guards standing there forever! "Imps are blinded," she said into her comlink. Now, time to bring those turrets online…uploading new targeting info…

Trask leaned around the corner and shot the two guards before they had a chance to move. Then, the group moved up to the doors, which slid open as they approached.

"This is going very well," Master Rae muttered.

Asori and Carth slipped through a doorway and locked it behind them. "Ok, I think that's far enough from the base." Carth gasped. "I couldn't run any further anyway."

Asori glanced out a window, then ducked down again. "They'll do a building-to-building search and spread out across the area. As long as they don't find us, they should be occupied for quite a while."

Carth nodded, and they both pulled off the identity-concealing masks they had been wearing and changed into the ornate clothes they had brought, dumping the Hidden Bek uniforms in the refuse. They then left the building by a different door, just two innocent Tarisian nobles out for a morning walk.

Ashla carefully slid open the door to the control room. So far, they had not met many Sith soldiers, and those they had didn't last long. Fortunately, the control room was empty apart from a couple of technicians. One of them drew a blaster. "Who are—"

Master Rae strode up to them confidently. "We are authorized to be here," he said, gesturing casually.

"You are authorized to be here," the tech said in a monotone, then moved over to a different console.

"Ok, let's get this done," Ashla said, sticking a datacard into the console. The words 'SYSTEM OVERRIDE ACCEPTED' flashed on the screen. _Thank you, Mission._ After searching through several files, she found one labeled 'LAUNCH CODES-CLASSIFIED'. This quickly changed to 'LAUNCH CODE ACCESS GRANTED', then, 'DOWNLOADING'.

Mission watched as the launch codes were copied onto Ashla's datacard, then, once that was done, wiped the system memory of the last minute.

'DOWNLOAD COMPLETE'.

"Yes!" Ashla crowed.

"(We should get out of here)" Zalbaar rumbled.

"Good plan," Trask said. Before he could reach the door, however, it slammed open. A bald man wearing an ornate uniform entered the control room, flanked by two Sith elite troopers.

"Thought you could break into my base unnoticed, Republic scum?" the man, who could only be the Sith Governor snarled, drawing a lightsaber from his belt.

"I've got this," Master Rae breathed, drawing his own lightsaber and igniting the green blade. The Governor followed suit, raising his red blade in a Makashi salute. Trask turned to the other door. "There's something behind here," he muttered. A horrible feeling of foreboding swept through Ashla. "Trask, wait, it's—"

But she was too late as a red blade stabbed through the door. And through Trask's neck.

"No!" she screamed as Trask's body slumped to the floor and the bald man with the goatee and double-bladed lightsaber from the _Endar Spire_ stepped over it. Rage filled her. "You'll pay for that," she snarled, and held out her hand, feeling the power surging through her. The Governor cried out in surprise as his red lightsaber flew out of his hand and into hers. Master Rae quickly finished off the Governor, the man's backup weapon, a vibroblade, not helping him at all. Zalbaar raised his vibrosword and stood beside Ashla, facing the Dark Jedi.

"Another Force-sensitive…interesting," the Dark Jedi said smoothly.

"You two get out of here," Master Rae snapped. "I'll hold him off."

"But—" Ashla began.

"Now is not the time or the place to avenge Trask," he replied. "Now run!"

Ashla sighed, and deactivated her stolen lightsaber and then she and Zalbaar ran from the room.

Master Rae faced the Dark Jedi warily.

"So noble, Jedi," the man purred. "Sacrificing yourself so your friends can escape. They won't, you know."

"I'm not the one who's sacrificing himself," the Jedi snarled, and leaped at the Dark Jedi. Caught off guard, the bald man retreated. Quickly, the duel moved out of the control room, through the base, and out onto a balcony overlooking North Plaza. The zabrak straightened up. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you," he said, and leaped off the balcony. Before he could reach the ground, he felt a burning pain in his chest, and looked down to see a red lightsaber sticking out of it. He hit the ground hard, but barely felt it. Either the blade had damaged his spine, or his body was already shutting down. Probably both. _So this is how it ends._ The Dark Jedi landed gracefully next to him, and pulled out the lightsaber.

"I guess they were right," Arden-Rae gasped, coughing up blood. "You should look before you leap." And he rolled over and drove his still-activated lightsaber into the Dark Jedi's stomach. The Dark Jedi gasped and fell to the ground next to him. As he lay dying, he saw a vision of Ashla reclaiming her true identity, but choosing a path of peace this time. The vision filled him with peace and hope, as did the beautiful sunrise under which he lay. Even as Jedi Master Arden-Rae became one with the Force and everything went black, that beautiful, peaceful, hopeful sunrise lingered.

Asori felt the death of her oldest and closest friend like a hammerblow to the gut. She staggered backwards, almost tripping Carth over. _No…_

"What's wrong?" Carth asked her, but she barely heard him.

No… He can't be. No!

"No…" she whispered.

"What happened?" Carth demanded. "Come on, talk to me!"

My old friend… my only true friend… not like this…

Carth grabbed her by the shoulders. "Asori! What's wrong?"

But all she could hear was her grief.

Bandon climbed painfully to his feet, assisted by two Sith troopers. The wound was serious, but not as bad as the one he had given the Jedi had been. Looking down at his enemy disdainfully, he spat on the corpse. _That's five out of eleven dead. Five out of the eleven who destroyed Revan. Master Arden-Rae. If only you knew the truth about that girl…_

That just leaves Bastila, and Dorak, Vrook, and Vandar. Those idiots and fools who call themselves the Jedi Council. Their time will come. But first…

With a growl, Bandon stalked off to the infirmary. The Jedi's aim was just _too_ good. Even when he was dead, he had still managed to strike back. His master would _not_ be pleased that he had lowered his guard like that. His master…

His master, and that idiot Saul Karath. Number 10 and 11 on his list.

When his list was complete, the greatest leader the galaxy had ever known would be avenged at last.

It was a gloomy and despondent team that regrouped in the hideout that evening. Despite acquiring the launch codes, apparently without the Sith knowing they had them, was a major victory. But Ashla wasn't sure if it was worth the death of two good friends.

"( _Are you alright, friend Ashla?_ )" Zalbaar asked, sitting down beside her.

"I'll be fine, Zalbaar," she replied quietly. "I'm not the one we should be worried about," she said, motioning to the corner where Asori sat, staring out the window at the bloodred sunset. The distressed Jedi had so far refused to talk to anyone.

"(Let me know if you need anything)" the wookiee murmured.

She smiled weakly. "Thanks, Zalbaar. I will."

At a loss for anything better to do, she took out the lightsaber she'd stolen from the Governor and turned it over in her hands. It seemed slightly smaller, proportionally at least, than a normal lightsaber. Thinking back to the duel in the base, she remembered that it had a shorter blade that Master Rae's lightsaber as well. _A shoto?_

Even as she thought this, the world blurred, and memories flooded back. Memories of countless hours spent training with a lightsaber, memories of many lightsaber duels. And countless other memories too, memories of seemingly random events that she knew must have been part of her life. Not yet enough to know for sure who she'd been, though. Unlike the last time something had triggered the return of some memories, though, there were no visions. Force visions often came at inconvenient times. Even though she had apparently defeated half the Black Vulkar gang while experiencing one…

"Where'd you get that?"

She blinked. "Sorry?"

Canderous had sat down on her other side. "The lightsaber. Where'd you get it?"

"I took it from a Sith," she replied.

"Can't imagine he'd part with it willingly," Canderous muttered.

"He didn't…I think I used the Force to get it," she said, even more quietly. "How did it go with the Beks?"

Canderous frowned. "Nothing went wrong, fortunately. The Vulkars stayed in their base and didn't trouble us. Something doesn't seem right, though."

"What is it?" she asked.

"The Vulkars _never_ stay in their base and out of everyone's way."

"You think they're up to something?"

"I know they are. It's obvious."

Ashla nodded. "I think you're right…I have a bad feeling. Something's going to happen soon, and we're not going to like it. In the meantime, we need a plan to get Bastila out of Davik's Estate."

Canderous grinned. "Got one. We all go in. I'll say I brought you to be recruited into the Exchange. Once we're inside, we find Bastila, find a way past the _Ebon Hawk's_ security systems, steal it, and blast out of here."

Ashla smiled. "Sounds good. I've got a fake name I can use, but Carth and Asori need their own."  
"Right. Let's get to it."

"( _This plan should work_ )" Zalbaar rumbled.

Ashla laughed. "I forgot he was sitting there."


	6. 5: Breaking Out

Ashla eyed the guards nervously as Canderous led the group through Davik's massive palace. One mistake at any time could throw the whole scheme off, and end with them captured or dead. Canderous had been surprised when she'd told him the 'fake' name to announce her by, but when she'd told him it was her real, original name, the one the Jedi had taken from her to hide their meddling, he had accepted it with a devilish grin.

The doors to the throne room—really, who needed a _throne room_ —swung open.

"Ah, Canderous, welcome back," a soft, crisply accented voice called. "And, I must say, I'm surprised. Don't you usually travel alone?"

"It's not like you to take on partners, Canderous," a short man standing next to the crime lord said. "You're getting soft."

"Watch it, Calo!" Canderous growled. "You may be the newest kath hound in the pack, but you aren't top dog yet!"

"Enough!" Davik interrupted. "I won't have my top two men killing each other—that's not good business. I'm sure Canderous has an explanation for why he's not working solo anymore."

"This is a special case, Davik. I ran into someone the Exchange might want to recruit." He gestured to the group, then to Ashla. "This is Jessa Ordo, a distant relative of mine. She killed half the Black Vulkar gang with her eyes shut and killed a Dark Jedi Master in a duel, stealing his lightsaber afterwards. Mission Vao here can hack into any system and not leave a trace of her presence, and the Wookiee Zalbaar is her bodyguard, although she can handle herself in a fight. Tix Maran" he said, pointing to Carth, "Is an excellent pilot. He and his partner Mira Sarris," he pointed to Asori, "defected from the Republic fleet, bringing with them a treasure trove of classified information. I'm sure the Exchange will find their services very valuable."

Davik seemed to consider it. "Very well," he said thoughtfully. "I'll take them on a tour of my estate, and then you can take them up to the guest rooms where they can stay while we do the background check."

Davik led them out of the throne room with a smug "I'm sure you'll be _very_ impressed".

Davik's Estate was indeed, unfortunately, impressive, despite some of its less pleasant areas. The crime lord had started out by showing them a view of Taris from one of the towers, saying that "Everything down there will one day be mine. Now, I'll show you what goes into that," and then led them through various parts of the palace, carefully avoiding the dungeons and torture rooms that obviously existed, although you wouldn't know it from all the glamour and opulence. Towards the end of the tour, they were shown the hanger bays, where Davik showed off his ships and those of his employees and contractors. Including the Ebon Hawk, protected by its state-of-the-art security systems. After the tour, they were escorted to Canderous's suite of luxurious, opulent guest rooms.

"You will stay here as my guests until your background check is finished. Once that is done, you will be invited to join the Exchange," Davik told them. "I suggest you accept that offer when it comes."

The crime lord then left the room, followed by Calo Nord.

Saul Karath entered the _Leviathan's_ shadowy, cavernous bridge, and looked around, trying to spot Darth Malak. "Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir?" the officer asked.

"Is Lord Malak up here?"

The officer gulped. "Yes, sir. He's up there," he said, pointing to the front viewport.

Karath reluctantly made his way to the front of the bridge, spotting the Sith Lord standing in the shadows near the viewport.

"You summoned me, Lord Malak?"

All that was visible of Malak in the darkness was his faintly glowing poisonous yellow eyes and a glint of reflected light on the cybernetic plate that replaced his lower jaw.

"The search for Bastila is taking too long. We cannot risk her escaping Taris alive. Prepare the Mass Shadow Generator."

Karath paled, thinking of that horrible, devastating weapon. "But, My Lord, we'd be slaughtering countless innocent civilians! Not to mention our own people still on the surface! And, if we use that…thing, we will lose all legitimacy in the eyes of the Galaxy!"

"What the Galaxy thinks of us is irrelevant, Admiral Karath." Malak snarled. "And, as for those on the surface, this shall be their…punishment for keeping Bastila from us. I trust you are not so foolish as to make the mistake that your predecessor did."

Karath nodded, remembering his predecessor's painful fate. "Very well, Lord Malak. I will do as you ask. But it will take several hours to position our fleet so that we are safe from the weapon."

"Then I suggest you begin immediately. You are dismissed, Admiral."

Karath bowed and left to prepare the Mass Shadow Generator, all the while wondering whether his life was worth billions.

Ashla and Canderous both fired, their shots taking the trandoshan thug in the chest.

"Two down, eight to go!" Canderous laughed.

"Not counting the ones back there, anyway," Ashla replied. "I think I have an idea for how to deal with this group."

"Yeah?" Canderous yelled from the cover of a doorway.

"Hold this!" she shouted, tossing him her rifle.

As Canderous caught it and set it down beside him, Ashla drew her pistol and activated her stolen lightsaber. She leaped out of cover and charged the eight remaining guards, deflecting some blaster bolts, dodging others, and firing back with her pistol, taking down three of them before sliding under a volley of blasterfire and cutting down two more with her lightsaber. Spinning, she shot two more, and beheaded the last guard with a swipe of the red blade.

Canderous stepped out of cover, a blaster rife in each hand. "Impressive," he drawled, handing her rifle back. "Last time I saw someone fight like that was back in the war. I haven't met many skilled fighters since."

Ashla deactivated her lightsaber. "Thanks. Let's get that Jedi out."

She tried to ignore the odd feeling of foreboding that filled her at the thought of Bastila being free.

Asori ran up behind them, blue lightsaber still activated. "The reinforcements won't be a problem."

"Good." Canderous muttered. "Could you get this door open?"

"Sure." She stabbed her lightsaber through the door and began cutting it open, muttering "Do we _really_ have to…".

The cut-through door slid open with a hiss. "There we go." On seeing that there were no more guards in the room, she deactivated her lightsaber. "Canderous, could you watch our backs?"

"Sure." Canderous replied, and swung his blaster up to cover the corridor.

The prison section was a maze of dark cells lit only by the glow of their energy barriers. This being the highest security prison, most were not occupied. Asori moved deeper into the room, obviously sensing Bastila back there. Ashla followed, noticing that her sense of foreboding grew as they got closer to the Jedi. On top of that… "Asori?"

The Jedi stopped. "Yes?"

"Can you sense something dark and indistinct, just hanging over our heads, getting closer all the time?"

"I suspect it's the Sith fleet," she replied, glancing into a cell.

"No, it's different, somehow darker, worse than the Sith. And I know I've felt it before but I'm not sure when or where."

"I sense it too," Asori replied uneasily. "I recognize it. It's—no…no, they can't have…even they wouldn't dare…surely…"

"What?"

Asori turned to face Ashla. The Jedi looked better than she had yesterday, but now her face was a mask of absolute fear. "The Mass Shadow Generator," she whispered. "We have to get off this planet, now!"

Ashla stopped. "Wait, what's a—"

The answer swam up from the depths of her buried memories, bringing with it an image of a world burning and tearing itself apart, entire fleets of ships torn apart with it. "Not…that?"

"Yes, that. Ah, there she is."

Bastila lay on the bench at the back of her cell, a silvery collar around her neck. Asori slashed her lightsaber into the energy barrier's projectors, hidden in the side of the cell doorway. The energy barrier sparked and sputtered out. Asori ran over to the other Jedi and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Bastila? No, of course not. Need to get rid of the neural disruptor." She did so, slicing off the offending device with her lightsaber. The broken collar clattered to the floor.

And the empty burning light-presence reappeared in Ashla's mind. Alarm seemed to resonate from it, then it spread out, blanketing her mind, cutting her off from the Force and instilling a feeling of inferiority. Ashla fought back. Fiery blades of blended dark and light pierced the shield and tore it apart, and her mind was free from the suffocating influence again. She could sense the Force again. The presence pushed at her mind again, trying to blanket it, but she was ready this time, and it didn't manage to even get close to breaking in. Sensing the source of the presence, she turned and glared at it.

"Get out of my head, Bastila!"

The young woman jerked back as though she had been stung, slamming into the cell wall. "You—"

Asori looked confused. "What?"

"Later. We have to get out of here, remember?"

Asori nodded, then turned to Bastila. "Come on. And stay out of her head. We can't afford to deal with mental wars right now, Malak is about to use the Mass Shadow Generator! We have to run!"

She pulled the groggy Jedi to her feet, and they ran for the exit, passing a surprised Canderous, who quickly caught up. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Sith superweapon—tell you later—run!" Ashla yelled.

Canderous nodded and warned the others by comlink. "They've got the security codes. They'll meet us at the hangar." Ashla nodded, and they sprinted in silence.

They arrived at the hangar to find the other members of their party facing off against Calo Nord, Davik, and several guards. The _Ebon Hawk's_ security systems were conspicuously off-line.

"Let a master slicer into my Estate? I should have expected this!" Davik fumed.

"You don't understand," Ashla spoke up. "The Sith are about to unleash a superweapon on the planet. We all have to leave."

"And you know this how?" Davik roared. He then spotted Bastila, and his face darkened even more. "I knew it! Sith agents, come to steal my prize! Calo! Kill them all!" Davik then ran towards the _Ebon Hawk_ , but never made it, as Canderous's shots caught him in the middle of his back.

"Should have paid me what you promised, old man!" Canderous yelled, before shooting three more guards and running for the ship. The others followed suit, and soon only Calo Nord was left standing in the hanger.

"I wasn't lying about the Sith, Calo," Ashla shouted.

The bounty hunter considered her words. "I never abandon a contract, but, if you're right, it might be more prudent to…delay…it for a while."

With that, he turned and sprinted for another ship. Ashla ran up the boarding ramp and closed it behind her "Take off, now!"

She sprinted into the cockpit and took the copilot's seat. Carth looked surprised, but then nodded. "Canderous, take the gun turrets," Ashla yelled. "The Sith might not let us go that easily!"

The ship lifted off and rotated to face the hanger exit, then blasted out of it and flew skywards. Ashla quickly transmitted the launch codes to the fleet, then turned her attention back to flying.

"Admiral! We have a freighter outbound and transmitting the launch codes!"

"Could they be one of our operatives?" Karath asked.

"Possibly, sir. The ship's not registered."

Better to accidentally let someone escape than to shoot down our own operatives by accident. "Let them pass." Karath ordered.

Malak silently stalked up behind him. "Admiral?"

"An outbound ship transmitted the proper clearance codes, Lord Malak. I was—"

"Stop that ship!" Malak yelled to the bridge crew. "I want it captured intact!"

As the bridge crew scurried to comply, Karath stepped back and turned. "My Lord?"

"Bastila is on that ship, Admiral Karath."

Karath felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. "My Lord, I apologize—"

"You are not Force-sensitive, how could you know?" Malak mused. "Is the Mass Shadow Generator Ready?"

Karath swallowed his guilt, his horror, his self-loathing, and gave the expected reply. "Yes, My Lord."

"Then fire."

"We've got Sith fighters coming in, at least a full squadron!" Carth yelled to Canderous, but he wasn't listening. No one was. Instead, they were all staring out the viewports at Taris. Or rather, what had been Taris. As they watched in horror, the planet was consumed by death. Orbiting ships and stations were torn from orbit and slammed into the crumbling surface. The planet collapsed in on itself, then exploded, flinging rocks, metal, fire, and death in all directions. A wave of cold darkness surged through the Force and Ashla slumped against the console, groaning. Her entire body felt cold and limp, and she could hear billions of voices screaming in her mind. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, trying to keep out the chill.

Through the blur of ice and death that seemed to have replaced the world, she felt the ship jolt and spin out of control. Clutching at one last, desperate hope, she reached out with the Force, trying to block out the death screams of an entire world.

"Shit!" Carth yelled, struggling to keep the _Ebon Hawk_ under control. "We're going down! The gravity well is too strong!" He glanced at Ashla. She was still slumped against the console, eyes closed, pale, and trembling. Dammed Force feedback. He couldn't imagine what feeling the death of a city-planet was like. He didn't want to. Although, as the _Hawk_ was sucked into the deepening gravity well, he realized they were about to find out first-hand. Suddenly, the ship's violent shaking calmed, and it began to turn away from the collapsing planet. "What?" Carth exclaimed. "How?"

A glance at the scanners showed that the fighters that had been pursuing them had been sucked in as well, but were unable to break free. Even as he watched, one went tumbling past the viewports. Then, they were in the clear. Carth grabbed at the hyperspace controls like a starving traveler reaching for a feast. The Ebon Hawk jumped to hyperspace, and they were safe. Away from the collapsing planet, away from Darth Malak and his fleet.


	7. 6: Aftermath

Ashla sighed, and slumped back in her seat, closing her eyes again. The Force echoes from Taris were dying down, finally, and she didn't feel so cold or shaky anymore. Even so, she'd still managed to spend the entire time since escaping Taris fending off Bastila's renewed attempts at accessing her mind. The other woman had grown tired of it a few minutes ago—fortunately, as she couldn't have kept her out for much longer—and Ashla's thoughts turned back to the dead world behind them.

"How could they…" she whispered to herself. "Not even the mandalorians were so senseless."

Someone put a hand on her shoulder. Carth.

"You ok, Ashla?"

"I will be," she replied. "And that's what scares me. The thought that we can see and feel and do such horrible things and shrug it off, again and again and again until we're nothing but emotionally dead husks like most Jedi."

Carth nodded. "It's one of the hardest parts of war. Dealing with all the hell that we go through. But, what we have to do is find something, a dream, an ideal, that sustains us, and we can keep going. Maybe."

"I used to think so…I think…"

"What do you mean?" Carth asked.

She sat up and looked directly at him. "I need you to trust me on this. I need you to _not_ tell the Jedi, especially Bastila."

Carth sighed. "Normally, I wouldn't agree to something like that, but, after all the ties you saved my life, after seeing some of the suspicious things the Jedi themselves have been up to, I think I owe it to you to trust you."

Ashla nodded. "Thank you."

Carth shrugged. "I probably do need to be more trusting of people I work with in general, anyway. So, what's going on?"

Ashla leaned over the console. "The Jedi did something to me," she whispered. "They wiped my mind and my memories and blocked me from the Force and made me into their slave."

Carth looked shocked. "What? How do you know?"

"My nightmares aboard the _Endar Spire_ , some dreams and visons in the last few days, repressed memories bubbling up, things like that."

"That sounds pretty crazy. No offense, but how do you know you're not just going insane?"

Ashla looked down. "I did consider that, but, I know, because, I can use the Force, I only could _after_ Bastila wasn't around, I can do things that I've never been trained how to do or even seen before, and, as soon as we freed Bastila, she tried to mentally smother me. She tried to block me from the Force and warp my mind into something…different. The mind of a beaten and cowed slave, no doubt. That's how I felt when I was around her on the _Endar Spire_."

Carth was staring at her oddly. "That's…a lot to take in, but, I believe you. If sort of fits."

"Fits with what?"

"The Jedi specifically requested your transfer to the Endar Spire, they didn't tell anyone why, there's no 'Ashla Deran' in any of the Republic fleet's records, and, Bastila was spying on you. Along with some of the Jedi Masters, at times, although they seemed a bit reluctant and guilty about it. She practically spent all her time in the security room, watching the cameras."

Ashla nodded, rubbing her head. Carth's information helped deal with some of her confusion and insecurity, but she knew it wouldn't go away until she found out who she really was.

"So," Carth asked. "Who were you before this happened? Do you know?"

Ashla sighed. "Some of it. My name…I think my name was…is Jessa Ordo."

Carth gasped. "Ordo? As in Canderous Ordo?"

Ashla nodded wearily. "We might be related."

"That would make you…"

"A mandalorian. Yes."

Carth looked shocked. "Well, that's…even more to take in."

"That and I saw Canderous's tattoo in my memories—or something like it—and I have a few fragmented memories of what I think is the Mandalorian War. Oh, and I can speak Mando'a."

"You can speak _everything_." Carth muttered.

She gave him a small smile. "True, true."

Predictably, Bastila chose that very moment to enter the room.

Ashla sat up, alarmed. She quickly put up the strongest mental shield she could. Anything to keep Bastila out of her mind.

Bastila seemed too tired to notice, though. "Carth, where are we going?" she asked.

"We're heading back to Kuat." Carth replied. "Last I heard, the Republic fleet was—"

"No!" Bastila burst out, then composed herself. "We have to go to Dantooine. There's a Jedi Enclave there. We'll be safe."

Carth looked skeptical. "We'll be safe once we're back with the fleet, not sitting on some backwater planet like Dantooine! You saw what happened to Taris! All the Force in the Galaxy couldn't protect you from the Mass Shadow Generator!"

"We won't be staying long—" Bastila tried to say, but Ashla had had enough.  
"'Not long, Bastila? Long enough for the Jedi Council to wipe my mind again?"

"The Council wants to help you!" Bastila insisted.

"Your precious council wants me as a helpless mind-slave!" Ashla spat. "Or dead. Or in a cage."

Bastila tried, again unsuccessfully, to calm Ashla down. "No-one's going to put you in a cage—"

"Stop LYING to me!" Ashla shouted, slamming her hand down on the console.

Bastila looked shocked at the outburst. "I'm not—"

"Lying by omission is still lying." Ashla snarled.

Asori and Canderous stepped into the now-overcrowded cockpit. "What's going on?" the Jedi Master asked.

Carth leaned back in his chair and started ticking points off on his fingers. "Well, let's see. We're _not_ going to Dantooine, Bastila's being a bigger idiot than I thought possible, the Jedi Council wants to mind-wipe Ashla—err, Jessa— _again_ —and I really, _really_ need to find a better job."

The Jedi and the mandalorian's expressions morphed into identical, enraged glares. Directed, of course, at Bastila. Who of course continued to rail on and on about the virtues of the council.

"The council works for the good of the whole Galaxy!" Bastila exclaimed.

"Only the good of the Jedi Order, actually." Ashla snapped.

Bastila then decided to appeal to the only being in the room who might agree with her. "Master Shakora—"

" _No_ , Bastila." Asori replied. "I told you not to try to get into her mind again, but did you listen?"

Bastila looked down at the deck. "She was able to keep me out! Consistently! Even after experiencing the Force feedback from Taris—and without the control of a Jedi!"

Asori glared at her. "This mission may have crashed and burned, but I am _still_ a Jedi Master, and _you_ are still a padawan. Irrelevant of your Battle Meditation. No matter how arrogant and stuck-up you may be. Now, you will stay out of her mind or you will regret it!"

Ashla blinked in surprise. The last thing she had expected was for a Jedi Master to defend her.

"I hope I don't have to tell you again." Asori spat. "Now get out. And stay away from Mission and Zalbaar."

Bastila scampered from the cockpit with all the grace of a drunk bantha, slamming into Canderous in her rush to leave the room. The cockpit descended into awkward silence. Ashla's mind was safe, for now, and Bastila had gotten the dressing down she so richly deserved, but no-one could find anything to say about it.

It was Canderous, of course, who broke the silence. "So where are we going, Onasi?"

Carth stared. "Uhhh…Kuat."

Canderous nodded. "Better than a nothing planet like Dantooine. How about Mandalore, though?"

Carth looked uneasy. "Why?"

"I haven't been home in a while," Canderous said, shrugging. "Besides, it might be a good place to start looking for information about a certain Jessa _Ordo_ , don't you think?"

"Fine." Carth said. "But we should still stop at Kuat first."

"Taris is…was close to Mandalore, Kuat's a lot further away."

"We're already halfway there."  
"That fast? We've been in hyperspace for what, nine hours?" Canderous said, clearly shocked.

Asori shrugged. "You said it was the fastest ship in the sector."

"Well, yes, but this fast?"

Carth leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying having gotten one over the big mandalorian. "Obviously."

Canderous sighed. "So. Kuat it is."

Carth nodded. "Kuat it is. I'm going to get some sleep while I can. Anyone else want to fly this thing?"

"I will," Ashla spoke up. "I don't think I could sleep anyway. Not with…"

Carth nodded, understanding. "Alright."

As Carth left, Ashla moved over to the pilot's seat and Canderous settled into the copilot's seat.

"I got some sleep on the way here," he said by way of explanation.

Asori took one of the other seats. "I'll stay up too. I'll keep Bastila out of your head if you do happen to fall asleep."

Ashla nodded. "Ok."

The three of them settled into silence as the ship dove through hyperspace.


	8. 7: A Meeting at Kuat

Malak glared at Karath. The Admiral flinched. "Y-yes, Lord Malak?"

"Why did that ship escape, Admiral?" Malak inquired conversationally.

"The fighters pursing it were dragged into the Mass Shadow Generator's gravity well, and did not have enough engine power to escape. The freighter began to fall in as well, but it somehow managed to stabilize itself and escape the gravity well."

"The ship escaped for one reason only." Malak snarled. "I sensed something that confirmed Darth Bandon's report."

"What do you mean?" Karath asked.

Malak told him. The Admiral paled.

"No…but, that's not possible!" he exclaimed.

"When you are dealing with _her_ , Admiral Karath, nothing is impossible. I was foolish to forget this. We must be on our guard."

Karath swallowed. "I agree." He turned to a Sith trooper. "Send in Calo Nord."

The Sith trooper saluted, left, and returned a moment later with the dimuitive bounty hunter.

Malak looked down at him contemptuously. The Dark Lord enjoyed looking down at people, and he was pleased that he could do that to Nord even more than he usually could.

"Yes?" the small man asked.

"Show some respect!" Karath snapped.

Malak seemed amused. "It is irrelevant, Admiral. Calo Nord, your task is to track down Bastila and her…companions…and bring them to me, alive. You will, of course, be paid more than adequately for this."

"I want at least 6 million credits for each target."

"3 million" Malak replied.

Now it was Calo's turn to laugh. "6 million each, or you can find some other bounty hunter."

"Very well," Malak growled. "And 3 million for each one you kill."

Calo nodded, and held out his hand. "Deal."

Malak ignored the proffered hand. "You may begin immediately."

The Ebon Hawk dropped out of hyperspace in the Kuat system. Canderous glared at the Republic fleet orbiting above the artificial planetary ring formed by the orbital shipyards.

"Alright everyone, we've arrived at Kuat," he said into the intercom. "Orbital shipyards and Republic fleets a specialty."

Ashla—no, Jessa, as she'd decided to use her real name now—looked groggily at him across the console. "Good," she murmured. "I can finally get away from Bastila, get some sleep without worrying about my mind being invaded."

Asori looked up from behind them. "I was looking at what was going on between your minds, and, I think you somehow have a Force bond. There may not be a minimum safe distance."

Jessa looked confused. "How do Force bonds work?"

"They sometimes form between Force-sensitives, especially when they are in a close relationship, such as mentor and student, or close friends…or lovers." She looked sad when she said that, obviously remembering her murdered friend.

Canderous turned to her. "Arden-Rae. You loved him, didn't you?"

"I…I don't know," she replied sadly, brushing aside a tear. "I might have…but we never had a chance…but that's in the past now," she said quickly, trying and barely succeeding to calm herself. "We have other problems to deal with."

Canderous nodded. "Right. Someone go wake Onasi up. The fleet's calling us."

Asori got up and left, obviously grateful for the distraction. "I've got it."

"Try dumping some cold water on his head!" Canderous laughed as she left.

Jessa laughed too. "Imagine the expression on Carth's face if she does do that."

"I imagine he'll yell something obscene. Maybe even scream"

Jessa laughed again, then turned to him. "That tattoo on your shoulder. What does it mean?"

Canderous shrugged. "It's the symbol of my clan—Ordo. Could be yours, too."

She nodded. "If we're right about me."

Before either of them said anything else, they heard a splash from the direction of the crew quarters, followed by a scream and a stream of obscenities.

Canderous looked at Jessa, and she looked at him, and they both started laughing.

Carth stomped up to the cockpit, shaking cold water out of his hair. As soon as he heard the laughter coming from the cockpit, he knew exactly whose idea it had been to wake him like that. As he entered the room, Jessa and Canderous started laughing even harder, and some of the water rose up from the deck to fly into his face.

"I'm pretty sure that's misusing the Force, Jessa." He muttered.

"What do I care?" she replied. "I'm not a Jedi. I can do what I like."

He heard more laughter from behind him, and turned to see Mission and Asori standing there, both laughing. At him.

"I am never waking up after you lot again." Carth growled. "You said the Republic fleet wants to talk to us?"

Canderous nodded, in between laughing. "Yes, the flagship, apparently. Big bulky thing called the _Corellia Sky._ "

Carth turned, pushed his way past Mission and Asori, and made his way to the holoprojector in the main room, and activated it. "This is Captain Carth Onasi."

The image of a junior officer appeared. "Oh, Captain Onasi! You're alive."

"Yes," Carth growled, "And I'd like to speak to Admiral Dodonna or your commanding officer."

"I'll uh, put the Admiral on, sir."

The officer's hologram vanished and was replaced by Admiral Dodonna. "It's good to see you, Carth. What happened to your mission?"

Carth took a deep breath. "First of all, it wasn't even _my_ mission. They put _Bastila_ in charge. A padawan who's barely seen combat, and doesn't take suggestions from anyone, and spent all her time spying on a junior officer. Secondly, we were attacked by the Sith as soon as we arrived at Taris. We didn't stand a chance. I'll give you a more detailed report in person, but we crashed on Taris and managed to get off the planet with the help of a Mandalorian mercenary, a teenage twi'lek slicer, and her wookiee bodyguard."

"And are your…allies aboard your ship with you?"  
"Yes, they are."

"Good. I'd like to interview them for their perspective on events. Were there any other survivors?"

"Master Shakora and an Ensign."  
"An Ensign?" the Admiral asked. "Who?"

"It's…hard to explain, Admiral." Carth said. "She's an…unusual case. I'll bring her along when we meet with you. I'd advise you keep Bastila away from her, though, and that I'll also explain."

Admiral Dodonna nodded. "Very well." She replied. "Jedi Masters Zhar Lestin and Vandar Tokare are here with us. I'll see that she goes to talk to them. Anything else?"

"Don't treat our allies with too much suspicion, treat them like guests."

The Admiral looked surprised. "A request like that, coming from you of all people?"

Carth smiled slightly. "Just because I have trust issues doesn't mean everyone else needs to."

She nodded. "Good. I'll see it done. One question though?"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Why are you soaking wet?"

Carth groaned. "Master Shakora decided to wake me up in a rather…unpleasant way. To make a long story short, I'm never keeping a mug of ice water next to my bed again."

The Admiral looked like she was trying not to laugh. "I see. Well, I'll see you soon. _Corellia Sky_ out."

The projector switched off. " _Ebon Hawk_ out too," Carth muttered, and went looking for a towel.

Jessa looked out of the viewport nervously. She could see Admiral Dodonna and several Republic officers standing in front of the ship as she brought it into the hangar bay, along with a reddish-gray-skinned twi'lek and a small green creature with huge pointy ears who could only be Jedi Masters.

"Let's go." Carth said behind her. Putting up the strongest mental walls she could after over 40 hours of fighting, flying and no sleep, she followed him and Asori out onto the _Corellia Sky's_ hanger deck. The rest of the _Ebon Hawk's_ occupants followed them out. She was pleased to see that Bastila was keeping her distance, at least for now. Admiral Dodonna stepped forward, a smile on her face.

"Welcome aboard the _Corellia Sky_. I'm Admiral Forn Dodonna. With me are General Merian," a bulky togruta man, "Captain Baras," a tall mirialan man, "and Jedi Masters Zhar Lestin and Vandar Tokare."

Zhar, the twi'lek, nodded his head to them, then addressed Asori. "I was sorry to hear of Master Arden-Rae's death. He will be missed."

Asori nodded back, obviously not trusting herself to say anything in case she lost what little emotional control she had left.

Formalities over, Dodonna led the group into her office, where she took a seat behind a desk in front of a viewport with a fantastic view of the orbital shipyards.

"So, tell me what happened on Taris, then!"

With that, the group related their misadventures and eventual escape to the Admiral. Jessa stayed quiet, leaving the story to the others. Fortunately, none of the others mentioned her identity conflicts, realizing that she would want to keep that information away from the Jedi for as long as possible. After they had finished off by telling the Admiral about the Mass Shadow Generator, she leaned back, a troubled look on her face. "Well, this is indeed cause for alarm. That weapon should have been destroyed along with Malachor. For Malak to possess it…"

"We have to destroy it, and every trace of anything connected to it." Canderous snarled. "That abomination is too dangerous even in the right hands."

Dodonna nodded. "I never thought I'd agree with a Mandalorian, but you're right."

Vandar turned to the group. "Bastila, we must speak to you about the events on Taris."

Bastila nodded. "Very well. But what about Master Shakora, or—"

A dark look from Zhar silenced her, but it was clear to everyone except maybe Dodonna and her officers what she had been about to say.

"Come," the twi'lek said. "We have a lot to talk about, do we not?"

With that, the Jedi Masters turned and left the room, Bastila trailing along after them.

"Now," Dodonna said, surprising everyone. "There is something you aren't telling me, isn't there?"

Carth nodded reluctantly. "Yes Admiral, there is. But we can't discuss it in this company."

With a glance and a gesture, Dodonna dismissed the two officers, who promptly saluted and left the room. "Is sending away my most trusted advisors good enough for your overdeveloped suspicions, Carth?"

Carth sighed. "Admiral, if this information reached the wrong people—"

"By 'the wrong people' you mean the Jedi Council?"

"Yes, Admiral. We have evidence that suggests that they and Bastila are responsible for some kind of mind-rape."

Dodonna sat up, shocked. "The _Jedi Council_?"

"Specifically, the Dantooine Enclave Council."

"How can you know this?"

"We know because the victim is beginning to remember, and the Jedi, Bastila in particular, were doing some rather suspicious things on the _Endar Spire_."

Dodonna sighed. "What 'suspicious things'?"

"Spending all her time watching the person in question on the security cameras."

"And the victim in question," Dodonna asked, "is Ensign Ashla Deran. That's what you meant about her being an 'unusual case', as you said."

Jessa nodded. "Only, there is no Ashla Deran. She's a fake. A preprogrammed identity the Jedi Council put in my mind."

"Then who are you?" Dodonna asked.

"I'm not completely sure, but I do know that my real name is Jessa Ordo."

Dodonna turned to Carth again. "How do we know this isn't the product of some brain damage or insanity?"

Asori spoke up. "It's true. I was there when they did it. I tried to stop it, but short of murdering the Jedi Council there was nothing I, Zhar, or Arden-Rae could do to stop it."

Her voice caught slightly on the last name, and she sighed. "Jessa, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. I—"

Jessa turned to her. "You did all you could, and Bastila was with us most of the time, so you couldn't have."

"Not before we rescued her…" she replied.

Jessa grabbed her by the shoulders. "Hey. We were busy breaking into a Sith base. Stop beating yourself up over this. It's ok."

"Thank you," Asori whispered sadly. "I—I have to go."

With that, she stepped back and all but ran out of the room.

Dodonna sighed. "What a mess the Jedi have caused. I didn't think they were capable of something as horrible as this, and now, I've got reports coming in that the Sith sacrificed millions of troops and billions of credits worth of equipment to rescue civilians in over twenty-seven active war zones! Are we even on the right side anymore?"

"The Sith did use the Mass Shadow Generator on Taris," Carth reminded her.

"Malak used it!" Dodonna all but shouted. "The Sith who were sacrificing so much to save innocent lives were led by Darth Bandon and some Dark Jedi! I'm starting to think the only difference between the Sith and the Jedi is who is in charge!"

Jessa found herself agreeing. "Admiral, you're right. They're both wrong about each other, about life, about _everything_. Both their ideologies are highly self-destructive."

Dodonna nodded wearily. "It's good to find someone else who doesn't see everything in black and white. Thank you. Are we done here?"

Carth nodded. "Probably."

"I'll send someone to show you to your quarters," the Admiral replied.

Later, alone in her quarters, Jessa took out the lightsaber she'd taken from the Sith Governor, and, almost unconsciously, started practicing lightsaber drills she didn't really remember. It was like she was moving without doing anything, flowing from one stance to the next without even thinking. She stopped, surprised. "How did I know how to do that?" she said to herself in amazement. It hadn't been quite perfect, though. Frowning at the lightsaber, she realized it had been designed to fit the Sith Governor's larger, beefier hands, and suited the aggressive Form V more than the more flowing blend of Forms II, III, and IV she preferred. It would do in a pinch, but… _I'll have to build my own. Somehow._

A knock at her door broke her out of her musings. Out of half-remembered habit, she reached out to sense who it was. She could feel Asori's blazing, dynamic, alive, though subdued by grief Force presence, and another similar presence that seemed familiar to her. Probably Zhar, from what she'd felt on arriving on the cruiser. "Come in."

The two Jedi stepped through the doorway, Asori holding something in one hand.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"The Jedi Council has decided to wipe your mind again." Zhar said quietly. "Bastila, Vandar, and a couple of other masters are on their way here as we speak. We have to get you out of here."

Jessa stood up. "Then let's get out of here."


	9. 8: Fighting Back

"Any ideas on where to go?" Jessa asked.

Asori stood up. "I have one, but I'll tell you on the ship. In the meantime, take this." She held out her hand. In it was a datacard. "The coordinates of somewhere they won't find us."

Jessa tucked the datacard into her coat pocket. "Right. Let's just get the others, and we'll go."

The three of them walked out of the room, Jessa picking up her blaster rifle on the way out.

"Ok," she said. "Canderous stayed on the _Ebon Hawk_ , so no one has to go find him. I'll get Carth. Asori, you get Mission and Zaalbar. Zhar, keep a lookout. Warn us if anyone comes."

The others nodded, and moved off. Jessa turned to Carth's room, which was just across from hers. She knocked. There was no answer, so she opened the door and went in anyway. "Carth?"

No answer. She reached up and flicked the lights on. She heard a lot of cursing from where he was slumped on the couch. "I was sleeping…" he complained.

"Well, now you're not." She replied. "We have to get out of here. The Council is going to wipe my mind again."

Carth jerked to his feet. "No!" he exclaimed.

"Get your stuff and meet us at the _Hawk_."

Carth nodded, still looking shocked. "I'll see you there. I can slow them down, buy you some time to escape. If I'm not there in 15 minutes, go without me."

Jessa nodded, grateful. "Thanks. I won't leave you behind, though. Not if I can help it." She left the room to see a sleepy, depressed-looking Mission and an inscrutable Zaalbar standing in the hallway.

"Is Carth coming?" Zhar asked.

"He's going to buy us some time, and meet us at the ship."

"Very well…let's go. The hangar is three decks down."

As the group entered a crew lounge, Bastila, Vandar and several other Jedi Masters turned into the corridor on the other side, spotted them, and started sprinting towards them. _Frak it._

Before Zhar could even shout a warning, Jessa spun and drove her lightsaber through the transparisteel viewport, melting a small hole in it. The atmosphere began to rush out of the hole at an alarming rate, and airtight emergency doors slammed shut. As soon as they had, she grabbed a datapad off a chair and used her lightsaber to weld it over the hole, sealing the atmosphere in. "That won't hold for long. A few minutes, maybe."

"We don't have a few minutes!" Asori exclaimed, pointing to the door. A blue-bladed lightsaber was cutting through it.

"Three decks down…" Jessa muttered. "Zhar, you could cut through the deck?"

Zhar nodded. "Good idea." He drew his lightsaber and started cutting through the deck with the green blade. Meanwhile, the blue blade was almost halfway around the door.

"Got it!" Zhar exclaimed, as the cut-off piece of deck dropped out of the hole. "Down here, quickly!"

The five of them climbed down through the hole in the deck into what looked like a set of pilot's quarters. Zhar moved a chair over the hole just before they heard the cut-off door fall and the Jedi burst into the crew lounge.

Zhar pushed open a door into a corridor, then another crew lounge and led the others through it, ignoring the stares of several pilots and deflecting their interest with a simple, mind-trick laced "Jedi Business. Go back to your drinks." The pilots immediately turned back to their drinks and conversation and ignored their unusual visitors.

 _Further over, just back this way, yes. Right here._ Zhar activated his lightsaber again and cut another hole in the deck. "This way!" he called urgently, sensing their pursuers had made it through the first hole. After the others had all jumped down into the corridor below, he followed them, again covering the hole, this time with a table. He then cut another hole in the deck a meter away from the one they had come through. Dropping down through it, they found themselves just outside the hangar bay. Zhar easily convinced the guards to let them in, but as they approached the _Ebon Hawk_ , the other Jedi entered the hangar behind them.

"Go," Zhar said in a low voice. "I'll hold them off."

Jessa looked like she wanted to argue, or worse, stay, but Zaalbar dragged her back onto the ship. Zhar backed up until he was standing on the landing ramp next to Asori, who already had her blue lightsaber activated. Sadly, Zhar activated his two green blades, cursing the need for this. "Has it come to this, then, Master Vandar? Must we fight?"

"Must we fight?" Bastila echoed incredulously. "You two have sided with the _Sith_ and you have the _nerve_ to ask whether we must fight?"

"We haven't sided with the Jedi," Asori said firmly. "That is not the same as siding with the Sith."

"What you intend to do to that girl is wrong, and you know it," Zhar snapped, agreeing. "You have no right to destroy her mind. If this is what your Order has come to, I am ashamed to call myself a Jedi. I should have taken this path a year ago." With that, he grabbed the five Jedi in the Force, straining against their reflexive resistance, and hurled them back into the corridor they had just left. Zhar and Asori deactivated their lightsabers and ran up the ramp, sealing it behind them. "GO!" he shouted, and the Ebon Hawk rose of the deck, turned—

And went straight to hyperspace before even leaving the bay. The sudden acceleration threw him and Asori off their feet and they both ended up on the deck in a tangle of limbs.

They quickly untangled themselves and sat against the wall.

"Did we really just do that?" Asori asked uneasily, staring at the ceiling with a lost expression on her face. "Leave the Jedi Order?"

"I think we did," Zhar breathed.

"Somehow, it doesn't feel so bad."

Zhar nodded. "We left for the right reasons. Actually, it's more like they left us. It's not like you're losing a big part of your life if that part of your life is—" _Oh, frak it all. That was soooo the wrong thing to say. At a time like this, after what happened on Taris… oh no. Don't remind her of losing people. Don't remind her of that. What have I done…_

She looked down, hiding her face from him, clearly struggling to control her shattered emotions.

"Asori," he said gently. "I'm sorry, I—"

She got up and moved over to a viewport, staring into hyperspace. Zhar stood up too, wishing for nothing more in the whole Galaxy than to be able to erase that careless statement. _Although, perhaps some damage control would help…_

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."

She still ignored him.

Zhar sighed. "Don't bottle your emotions up. That only does more damage."

"T-that, coming from an ex-Jedi Master?" she asked shakily.

"Emotion, _yet_ peace, passion, _yet_ serenity. The two are not mutually exclusive. Despite what most Jedi will tell you, but then, most of those Jedi have forgotten what the Order once stood for. What the Code used to be. Don't bottle it up. Let it out. Let it go."

She leaned her head on the viewport, crying silently. Zhar wrapped his arms around her, not saying anything, just letting her vent her grief and pain.

Canderous looked over at Jessa with a wild grin. "Never seen anything like that before! That was some flying! Hyperspace straight out of a hanger bay!"

Jessa grinned back, feeling light-headed. "We should do it again sometime!" she laughed.

Sitting behind them, Mission could only stare in awe. "I never even thought that was possible!" the girl exclaimed. "Where did you learn to fly like that?"

Jessa's triumphant, jubilant mood evaporated, and with it, her rush of energy, though adrenaline was still coursing through her. "Like everything else, I don't remember," she sighed. "I have to get some sleep, though. I've been running on adrenaline and the Force for the last 50 hours or so."

"( _Of the two Jedi on this ship,_ )" Zaalbar said, "( _one is currently a broken emotional mess and the other is currently comforting said emotional mess. Who will guard your mind from Bastila?_ )"

"Dammit. Why can't there be a minimum safe distance!" she screamed at the universe. Canderous out the viewport. "Break the bond," he muttered. "That way she won't be able to get into your head without being near you."

"I don't know if Force bonds can be broken," she sighed. "The Jedi would never tell me…unless Zhar or Asori knows anything…so…I guess we'll have to ask the Sith…"

"I'll be back," Mission said. "Stay here. Stay awake."

"I'll try…" Jessa murmured, he eyelids drifting half shut.

Mission came back a moment later. "Zhar doesn't know, and Asori's asleep for the first time in over a day, so, nothing."

Canderous swore violently. "Well then, do to Bastila what she's trying to do to you. Attack her mind. Make her back down."

"I…can try…"

"You should do it with Zhar around so he can keep Bastila out if you fail, because you _need_ some sleep." Canderous said flatly. "You need to be rested so you can protect your mind."

"Yeah…" Jessa yawned. "You fly this thing, Canderous. I'll go talk to Zhar."

She tried to get to her feet, but staggered and nearly fell. "Uhhh…little help here?"

Zaalbar slid a furry arm around her shoulders. "( _Stay awake, Jessa._ )"

"Trying…" she murmured. He pushed her head off his shoulder.

"( _I am not a pillow, Jessa. Stay awake._ )"

Her vision blurred briefly. "Let's get to Zhar sooner rather than later…"

They entered the crew quarters, where Zhar sat next to a sleeping Asori. "Jessa?"

"Canderous…had an idea…if I can hit Bastila back…hard enough to scare her into…thinking twice about…attacking my mind…maybe she'll back off…need your help…can't stay awake much longer…" she whispered. Zaalbar slid her down to the floor, the cold, uncomfortable metal of the deck waking her up slightly. Zaalbar left, and Zhar knelt down in front of her.

"Focus, Jessa."

Zaalbar stomped back into the room. He was carrying something in his huge hands. Her half-asleep brain didn't register what it was until it was thrown in her face—a bowlful of icy cold water.

"Ughhh…what a wake-up call." _That helped a bit. And at least battle armor…which I haven't taken off in 50-something hours…is uncomfortable enough to help keep me awake._

"Jessa, listen to me." Zhar. He was helping her fight off Bastila. "Can you take us into your mind?"

Jessa yawned. She'd never done it consciously before, but…

 _…_ _but it was almost like slipping into a dream. She was standing on a dusty, rocky plain with the occasional stand of scrub. A hot wind was blowing across it, stirring up huge clouds of dust. All around her, she could see what looked like a ray shield, and outside, a raging theta storm._

 _"_ _An interesting visualization," someone beside her said. "Though I don't believe Korriban gets theta storms."_

 _She turned. Standing—or floating—beside her was a Force presence that resembled a scorching vortex of wind, with streamers of flame shooting through it. Zhar._ Well now I recognize his Force presence…

 _"_ _Can you sense the bond?" the Zhar-presence asked. She could. It was like the storm was being funneled down at her from somewhere. Sensing the origin point directly 'above' them, she flew upwards._

 _As soon as she left the 'shield', she found herself flying along a funnel of clouds before landing in an even stranger 'place'. It was a huge, flat stone slab that stretched on into infinity, covered by a knee-deep layer of icy water. Huge stone pillars and bars crisscrossed everything and more water floated around them. This had to be Bastila's mind, or at least a visualization of it._

 _"_ _What are you doing?" a voice screamed from all around her, alarmed. "Get out of my mind!"_

 _"_ _Like you've been doing anything different!" Jessa yelled back. Hmm… Those stone pillars? Experimentally, she stepped forward and kicked one. It shattered, raining down icy water._

 _"_ _Stop it!" Bastila screamed. The pillars must have represented her mental control. Jessa kicked another one, and it too crumbled._

 _"_ _Stop tying to break into my mind!" she screamed at Bastila._

 _"_ _I-I have to get into your mind!" Bastila screamed weakly. "I have to help you! I have to help you find peace!"_

 _"_ _Yeah, you say peace," Jessa retorted. "I kinda think you mean the other thing."_

 _She kicked a third pillar, shattering it._

 _"_ _Stop! We can talk about this!" Bastila shouted._

 _"_ _I'm sure we can. Here's how it is: You stay out of my mind, forever! You don't let anyone else use our bond to attack my mind. Break these rules and I break you. Don't think I won't, or can't. Got it?"_

 _"_ _I will not accept that! You have to let me—"_

 _"_ _I've had my mind destroyed by the Jedi, seen a planet torn apart by a weapon I should have seen coming, almost been killed by said weapon, and have been fending off mental assaults for the last 40-something hours. I don't 'have' to do anything. Now, stay out of my mind. Got it?"_

 _Bastila sighed in resignation. "Fine. I'll leave you alone."_

 _"_ _If you break your word—" Jessa warned her._

 _"_ _I am a Jedi. My word is my bond."_

 _"_ _You'll forgive me if I don't trust you. Now. Remember this. Break into my mind successfully, try to wipe it again, and I have no doubt that Canderous, Asori, Zhar, Mission, and Zaalbar will hunt you down and they will make you will regret ever so much as touching my mind. Now, BACK OFF!"_

 _"_ _I won't come near your mind again!" Bastila practically squeaked._

 _"_ _Good. Now, bye. I won't be seeing you."_

 _Jessa withdrew from Bastila's mind and back to her own. The 'storm' that had represented the other woman's mental attacks had vanished. She pulled herself out of the dream-state roughly._

"Did it work?" Zhar asked worriedly.

"I think so…" Jessa murmured. "I think I frightened her enough. Wake me up this time next year…"

She trailed off. Zaalbar lifted her into a bunk and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Bastila shuddered, and wrenched herself out of the mental link. Never had she imagined the other woman would regain her telepathic powers so quickly. Anything to avoid that onslaught. Anything. She had _felt_ her control falling apart, like it was a series of glass panes that were being shattered, one by one. Once she was done with that, she knew the other would have started on the rest of her mind, and that was not something she wanted to be on the wrong end of.

Bandon stalked through the fields of Dantooine, turning kath hounds and other animals away with a push of the Dark Side. This, he knew, would eventually lure the Jedi he sought out to him. If they brought too many reinforcements, he could run and hide in the endless prairies, and strike again later. Suddenly, he heard a raw yell as a cathar woman wielding a green lightsaber leaped at him from the side. He hadn't sensed her, so she must have been very skilled at hiding in the Force. Bandon drew his lightsaber and activated both blades, parrying the strike and following up with a return strike that his attacker easily dodged. Pressing the attack, Bandon drove her back to some ruins in a grove that stank of the Light Side. _Ugh. Filthy Jedi._ The cathar, however, was clearly no Jedi. She fought with a wild, animalistic fury that no Jedi would risk, and he sensed the Dark Side pulsing strongly around her. Feinting left, Bandon delivered a kick to her jaw that sent her stumbling backwards, then a Force push to throw her to the ground several meters away.

"Stand down," he growled. "We don't need to fight. The Jedi are the enemy."

The cathar eyed him curiously. "You have come here hunting Jedi?"

Bandon grinned. He had her now. "Yes. Two in particular. Masters Dorak Quinn and Vrook Lamar."

"And why do you want their blood?"

"To avenge a friend of mine whose mind they destroyed. What about you?"

"Revan once saved me from slavers. I owe her my life and my freedom. And when I saw a recording of the council destroying her, I knew I had to avenge her. I went straight to the council chambers and confronted them over their crimes. Our argument escalated. I attacked them. Even with the power of the Dark Side, I alone was no match for them. So I ran."

Bandon smiled. "What is your name, friend?"

"I am Juhani."

"Darth Bandon. I hope you will consider joining me in my quest for revenge."

"Revenge is my quest as well." Juhani snarled.

"Good. Also, I can teach you how to use the Dark Side, if you wish. I have not had an apprentice in far too long."

Juhani smiled. "If you help me avenge Revan, I will gladly become your apprentice."

Bandon grinned even wider, taking a deep breath of the sweet Dantooine air. "Good. Do you accept my teachings and the ways of the Dark Side?" he asked formally.

"I will gladly accept your teachings and follow the ways of the Dark Side." Juhani replied, equally formally.

"Good. You may rise, Juhani. Welcome to the Sith."

"Thank you, Master."

"You should know; Revan is the friend who I am avenging."

"Excellent. As I thought." Juhani said, then frowned. "Wait. You said is?"

"Revan is alive, and regaining her mind."

Juhani laughed. "She is? Those fools. Thinking they could defeat one of such power. We will make them regret it."

Bandon laughed. "Yes. And then we shall find Revan and pledge our loyalty to her."

His new apprentice smiled. "Which she should have had from the beginning. We will make this right."

"Yes. We will. The Jedi will know to never commit such a crime again. Dorak and Vrook should be here soon, and then we have a meeting to get to."

"What meeting, master?"

Bandon smirked. "You'll find out. The main agenda, though, is justice."

The cathar smiled at that, clearly realizing what Bandon meant.

Neither master nor apprentice noticed the dark figure watching them from the shadows, hidden by both the Force and a stealth field generator. He nodded, also inferring what Bandon meant by 'justice', and, smiling beneath the hood of his leather longcoat, the dark figure made his way back to his small, long-range stealth ship, which he had silently landed nearby not long ago. He paused with his red-skinned hand next to the hatch, but then decided to stay and watch how the fight turned out. It would certainly be interesting.

Assuming the "Sith" won, the Emperor would be _very_ pleased. And even if they didn't, well…he had prepared for that eventuality.


	10. 9: A Detour

"I mean, I know I should feel bad about Taris, and I do, but I don't feel like I've really lost anything."

Canderous sighed, and leaned back in his seat. "Taris was just a planet-sized slime pit, Mission, and you know it."

"I know, and, even though I grew up there, it's not so bad. I guess that's why. It is—was just a big, planetary slime pit."

Canderous nodded. "You don't miss it?"

"Well," Mission said thoughtfully, "I do miss some of the people I knew there, but, I guess I didn't know them that well, and most of them always treated me like I couldn't look out for myself. So, nah, I don't miss it. It's still hard though, you know? To see a planet ripped apart like that…" For a moment, she looked like she was about cry, but composed herself.

"That weapon is an abomination," Canderous snarled.

"Yeah, it really is…what's Mandalore like?"

"Mandalore? Well, you know, if it comes down to it, someone's always got your back. Several someones. With a lot of weapons. Although you'll probably be up against the same odds, unless you're fighting someone stupid enough to attack Mandalore itself, in which case you'll have every Mandalorian behind you when you go to fight them. Even so, you'd better make sure you can handle yourself in a fight. Mandalorians don't respect the weak. Even the more peaceful Mandalorians, like everyone who owns shops and works in public service and private industry and in agriculture are still Mandalorians, still warriors. They'll still fight if their home is attacked, and, as a rule, they'll fight just as well as the most dedicated warriors. There's no such thing as a defenseless bystander on Mandalore." Canderous said all this in a nostalgic way that made Mission wonder how long he'd been home. "At least," he continued, standing up and pacing around the cockpit, "That's what it used to be like. Before that abomination of a treaty the Republic forced on us. Before we were—disarmed," he spat, bitterness and rage dripping from his voice. "We lost everything. All our weapons, all our ships, our Basilisk War Droids, our armor, our resources, the legal rights to control of our own planet. They destroyed us with _politics_." Canderous sat down, scowling in disgust. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea. Going back will just remind me of what we've lost."

Mission sighed. "Yeah, but we're going to find out who Jessa is, remember?"

"Jessa. Now there's someone who reminds me of how we used to be. She understands how to keep to your honor, but to not be afraid of doing what it takes to win." Canderous sighed. "I think I'll actually be disappointed if she doesn't turn out to be a Mandalorian."

Carth found himself sitting across a desk from Admiral Dodonna, wishing he could be anywhere but there. Well, nearly anywhere. "Admiral, I don't want anything to do with the Jedi, especially not Bastila!"

Dodonna sighed. "Carth, we've been over this. I need someone close to them. Someone I can trust. And your distrust of them means you won't let them hide things from you or trick you into following along with their schemes, which makes you perfect for this."

"I don't want to be associated with anything they do, knowing what they've done!" Carth exclaimed.

Dodonna looked sad. "I know, Carth. Neither do I. I won't order you to do this, but I will ask. You can say no if you want. It won't go on your record or be held against you."

Carth nodded. "Thank you, Admiral. I…I think I'll take the mission."

She smiled. "Thank you, Carth. Master Vandar is in the conference room on deck 2. He'll want to see you."

Carth stood up. "I'll find a way to stop them, Admiral."

"I know you will. But be quick. Bastila's about to leave with some Masters, following a tracker on the _Ebon Hawk_. You'll be part of their fighter escort. That puts you in a position to move around without them, but still stay with them. Dismissed."

Carth saluted, and strode out of the room.

The _Ebon Hawk_ dropped out of hyperspace above Mandalore, giving Canderous a good look at his home…and the Republic fleet circling it. For a minute, no one said anything, looking at the fleet carefully, as if waiting for an attack. Mission glanced over his shoulder at the console. "What's that? Something behind us?"

Canderous jerked his eyes away from the fleet to stare at the sensor console. "A Republic assault shuttle, with a fighter escort. They must have followed us."

Mission's eyes widened. "How?"

"Bastila must have put a tracker on us. Tell Zhar to get to the top turret. I'll try to lose them. Tell him to take out that shuttle's comm array!" he yelled after her. "it's just behind the cockpit, at the base of the tail." _If it loses that, they'll have a harder time tracking us. Not to mention we won't have to listen to officious Jedi nonsense._

A Mandalorian did not run, but neither did he start a pointless battle that there was no chance of winning. Contrary to popular belief, the warrior society did, in fact, believe in tactics and fighting smart. One freighter against that fleet was pointless, honorless suicide. And so Canderous flipped the _Ebon Hawk_ around, turning it sharply to the right and rolling to give Zhar the best fire angle he could.

Mission's yell jerked Zhar out of his meditation. "What's going on?" he shouted back. He could sense other Jedi, very close to the ship. Including Bastila.

"Jedi," she gasped frantically. "they followed us! You need to get to the gun turrets!"

Zhar leaped to his feet, and sprinted out of the room, through a corridor, and up a ladder into the turret.

Mission had followed him to the base of the ladder. "Take out the—"

"—communications array, I know!" Zhar swung the turret around and focused on the shuttle. He gave himself a second to consider what he was about to do, then opened fire. Each shot, guided by the Force and the skill of a war veteran, flew straight into its target. Caught off-guard with its shields down, the shuttle's communications array was blasted to pieces. Zhar followed that up with a few precise shots into the still-unshielded shuttle's engines, then turned his attention to the fighters. One of them swooped over, firing at the turret, but the _Hawk's_ shields were far above average for a ship of its size, probably due to various illegal modifications. Zhar fired back, again aiming to disable rather than kill, and the _Aurek-VII_ strike fighter spun out of control as its engines and left wing were shredded. Zhar knew that this particular variant of the fighter had quite strong shields—he'd flown one himself—so the _Ebon Hawk's_ guns had clearly also received an upgrade. Or five. Focusing on another fighter, Zhar fired, blowing both of its wings off. Glancing briefly at the fleet, he noticed two fighter squadrons approaching, followed by 3 _Hammerhead_ -class cruisers. Off to the side, and _Interdictor_ -class battlecruiser was moving to intercept. If it managed to power up its gravity generators in time, the _Ebon Hawk_ would not be able to escape into hyperspace. Zhar fired again, and the third fighter was blown apart. _Unfortunate, but it had to happen sometime. We are on the run, after all. That leaves two disabled, and one still coming. And those other ships._ The last fighter was clearly being flown by a more careful and skillful pilot, easily avoiding Zhar's return fire and continuing to burn away at the shields. According to the shield data, however, the fighter was doing almost no damage to the shields at all. In fact, it was firing in some sort of pattern of bursts and single shots, the same pattern, repeating over and over. Zhar's eyes widened as he realized. _Blink code!_ Keeping one hand on the controls, he grabbed a datapad with the other, and started to note down the message.

 _Tracker on you. Fleet after you. Go to Tatooine. Find star map. SIS will help. Contact phrase is 'Good weather we're having today, eh?'. C._

"Canderous!" Zhar yelled into the comm. "Set a course for Tatooine!"

The two squadrons from the fleet had almost caught up with them, the cruisers lagging behind, but nearly close enough to use their tractor beams, and definitely close enough to shoot. Green fire flashed past the ship, not quite making it through the shields, but nothing could withstand fire from a capital ship's main guns for long.

"We're getting out of here! Hold on!" Canderous yelled from the cockpit.

Then the stars stretched into lines, and then into the shining blue vortex of hyperspace. They'd escaped. Barely.

 _She stood on the bridge of a starship, watching from behind a metal mask as ships swirled around each other, firing lasers, missiles, dodging, dying, exploding into fiery flowers of death, the Force screaming in agony all around her. Too much…it was all too much…_

 _Without taking her eyes from the battle, she pulled a small device out of her pocket and thumbed the switch on the top. The message was sent. General Surik would know what to do._

 _Her friends…her allies…her best commanders. They were all scattered, standing on the bridges of different starships or leading the fighter squadrons in a last, desperate attempt to break the Mandalorian lines._

 _"_ _Lines which I should be on the other side of…" she whispered, too quiet for anyone to hear._

 _Her other hand, the one that didn't hold the signal device, was wrapped around something small and hard. She uncurled her clenched fingers briefly, looking at the small symbol on its silver chain._

 _The universe really did hate her. Here she was, commanding an army who hero-worshipped her, fighting in the name of an order and a government she hated, masterminding the slaughter of her own people._

 _Her eyes blurred with tears, and she angrily blinked them away, clenching her hand tightly around the necklace she didn't deserve to wear, almost feeling the tattoo she didn't deserve to have burning on her shoulder. Symbols of a culture she'd betrayed in the worst possible way. If the Jedi hadn't taken her, hadn't deceived her, the war would have gone very differently…her life would have gone very differently…_

 _Suddenly, the Force screamed even louder, and she sunk to her knees, clutching her head. Ahead, above that slate-gray world, ships and stations were torn from orbit, burning to shreds in the atmosphere before it too, was torn away. The remaining ships fell even harder, shattering their way into the planet's rocky surface. With trembling hands, she pulled off her mask and hurled it aside, then tossed her gauntlets after it and struggled to wipe away the tears brought on by what she'd done; the falling ships, the destruction of her people at her hand, the death screams of millions…_

Jessa awoke drenched in sweat and tears. That nightmare had been so vivid. And strangely enough, she could remember having had it before, many times, though, of course, she couldn't remember why. _Blasted Jedi._ Another relic of that past life. A battle she'd never seen, but remembered in the form of a nightmare.

Someone was shouting.

"—followed us! You need to get to the gun turrets!" _Mission?_ The sound of two sets of running feet, then, more faintly, "Take out the—"

"—communications array, I know!" _Zhar? What is going on here?_

Groggily, she opened her eyes. Someone had evidently put her in one of the bunks in the crew quarters after her mental duel with Bastila. Her coat, boots, and weapons—except for her knife, which was still in its wrist sheath—had been in a pile next to the bunk, but when the ship had flipped over and rolled, they'd been thrown everywhere, despite the inertial dampers, so the ship must have been doing some pretty crazy flying. Her hair had dried after getting a bowlful of water thrown in her face by Zaalbar—at least she thought it had been Zaalbar—so she'd gotten at least a few hours sleep. Quickly, she checked on her mental shields. Fortunately, what was left of them was still intact, and there was no trace of anyone else in her mind. She didn't feel particularly well rested, but she felt good enough to consider standing up. Groaning, Jessa leaned over and grabbed her boots, slipping them back onto her feet. Tossing her coat and rifle onto her bunk, she picked up her pistol, vibroblade, and lightsaber, and headed up to the cockpit.

Carth kept dodging and shooting, making sure to keep his fighter's weapons on their lowest power setting. He didn't want to burn through the _Ebon Hawk's_ shields before someone on board managed to decode his message. He hadn't asked for this assignment—had protested against it, actually—but now that he had it, he had to make the most of it. Hence the blink code message.

"Gold Leader, this is Red Leader. What's going on over there?"

Carth glanced out at the approaching squadrons and swore. Then he activated the comm unit. "Red Leader, the target's shields are ridiculously strong. I can't make an impact."

"Try to keep them from jumping to lightspeed long enough for our capital ships to come in."

 _As if._ "Got it, Red Leader. Gold Leader out."

Ahead of him, the _Ebon Hawk_ went to lightspeed. Carth only hoped someone got his message.

Jessa entered the cockpit just as the Ebon Hawk went to hyperspace, leaving behind some extremely angry republic pilots and a shuttle full of even angrier Jedi. "Where are we going this time?" she asked.

"Tatooine," Canderous growled. "ask Zhar if you want to know why."

 _Zhar?_ "Maybe I will," she muttered. "Where are Zaalbar and Asori?"

Canderous frowned as he looked at her carefully. "Not sure. Somewhere on the ship, obviously. What's that on your shoulder?"

"What?"

"On the right one. Looks like a scar, but there's something else there, kinda blurry, kinda like my eyes keep sliding off it…" Mission muttered.

Jessa looked carefully at her shoulder. "I don't see any…wait. You're right. What is that? It looks like…" she trailed off.

"Like Force compulsion?" Asori said from the doorway.

Jessa frowned. "Maybe. Hey, are you alright? I heard you were pretty upset earlier."

The kiffar woman shrugged. "I've been better. And that is definitely Force compulsion, trying to make you and everyone else think that whatever's there is just a scar. I think I can do something about it…just let me focus…" She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, putting one hand on Jessa's shoulder. A moment later, she shuddered, and stumbled backwards. "It's to strong for me to break through," she said, shocked. "Zhar?"

"What is it?" came the reply.

"I need your help breaking a Force compulsion."

The other Jedi— _former_ Jedi, Jessa reminded herself, walked in a moment later, making the already crowded cockpit even more so. "How could we all have missed that?" Zhar said, slightly shocked.

"Well, I did have my coat on most of the time, and its sleeves cover whatever this is," Jessa reminded them.

"Alright," Zhar said, putting a leathery hand on her shoulder. "Let's find out what this is."

Asori put her hand on Jessa's shoulder next to Zhar's, and both of them closed their eyes. The blurriness seemed to shift, then dissipated like mist in the wind, revealing a tattoo identical to the one on Canderous's left shoulder.

The big Mandalorian leaned back in his seat, smirking. "I knew we were related. Ohh, the Jedi will be mad. Ha!"

"What does it mean?" Mission asked curiously.

"Mandalorians get one at birth, to signify which clan they belong to," Canderous said. "Yeah, sounds a bit barbaric to others. But it's not done how your tattoos are done. Mandalorians don't believe in harming infants. So we can do it without hurting them. It's a secret art that I'm not going to share with you. Not unless you get adopted into a clan, and get one of your own."

"Well that's good, at least. Do people often get adopted into a clan?"

Canderous laughed. "Not often. Only if they're worthy. There's quite a funny story about one time that happened, back before the war…"

They had come. Alone.

So arrogant, these Jedi. Trusting in their precious light side to protect them. Bandon ran his thumb over the activation switch on his lightsaber. _Not yet._

Dorak and Vrook moved deeper into the grove, lightsabers still secured on their belts. Beside him, Juhani bared her teeth in a feral snarl. He could tell the cathar Dark Jedi was bursting to attack them, but…she did not understand. Not yet. Animalistic rage was not the way to use it. You had to control the dark side, not the other way around.

 _Yes. Now._

Silently, Bandon leaped from the tree, not activating his lightsaber yet. If he could get an easy victory, he would take it.

But he could not. Just as he activated his lightsaber, an inch from Dorak's head, the Jedi Master spun with supernatural speed and deflected the death blow with his green blade. He then stepped back, standing shoulder to shoulder with Vrook, who quickly activated his own blue-bladed weapon.

"So this is what we've been sensing," Dorak commented.

"Darth Bandon. A pleasure to meet you," Vrook sneered. "How is your position as Malak's newest attack dog treating you?"

Bandon grinned, showing all his teeth. "Better than your position as my newest victim is treating you, I'm sure."

With that, Bandon leaped at the Jedi, his crimson blade whirling. He'd only activated one side of his lightsaber, hoping to surprise them with the second blade. That was not the only surprise he had in store for them, though.

Vrook ducked under his first blow, then followed up with his own attack, which Bandon easily blocked before blocking Dorak's swing. After another equally fast exchange of blows, he spun and activated the second blade, piercing an unwary Dorak through the chest. The jedi toppled to the ground, shock showing on his face. Vrook leaped back to gain space, summoning Dorak's dropped lightsaber to his other hand and activating it, crossing the green and blue blades in front of him.

"You will not win this, Sith," Vrook growled, and settled into a defensive stance, just as a green blade appeared out of nowhere and impaled the Jedi Master from behind.

The air rippled and Juhani reappeared, shutting down her lightsaber. "Well, that went well," the fallen Jedi commented offhandedly, as Vrook slumped to the ground like Dorak had.

Just as he had done with all the others on his list, Bandon collected the two Jedi's weapons and attached them to his belt. _Four left._

"How did you plan on leaving this planet?" Juhani asked.

Bandon suppressed a sigh. "I have a ship, obviously. But there is one thing we need to do first."

A few hours later, Juhani was able to sneak back into to the Jedi Enclave and complete the task he'd assigned to her. The two Sith then left the planet using Bandon's shuttle, which he'd landed in Dantooine's endless grasslands.

When the Jedi awoke next morning, they found a grisly sight awaiting them.

Vrook and Dorak's bodies, slouched in their Council chairs.

And carved across the wall behind them, with what could only have been a lightsaber, were the words _Four left._

And, below that: _She will be avenged._

"A message," Vandar said tiredly, rubbing his forehead as he stared at the grisly scene on the recording.

"A message from whom, Master?" Bastila asked worriedly.

Vandar's headache was only getting worse. "Revan."

"But that's impossible, Master, she—"

"Yes, padawan, I am aware of that. However, I did not say it was from her directly. She must have sent someone to leave it, making us think that some Sith fanatic is attempting to avenge a fallen Dark Lord. It matters not, padawan. You know your part in what we must do once we reach Tatooine?"

"Yes, Master Vandar."

Vandar smiled. Perhaps they could succeed after all. "Good. We will not have much time, so we must act quickly. She must not have a chance to fight back."


	11. 10: Tatooine

By the time the Ebon Hawk landed on Tatooine, Jessa felt much more confidant in her identity. There were still a lot of blank spots—namely everything between the Mandalorian war and now—but she did have flashes from that. From what she could tell, she'd been taken by the Jedi as a teenager, before that, she'd liven on the streets on some Outer Rim dustball, completely unaware of her heritage. She thought she'd discovered it sometime in the war, but, of course, nothing was clear. Just indistinct flashes.

As she, Canderous, Asori, and Zhar walked down the landing ramp, leaving Mission and Zaalbar to guard the ship, they were met by a Czerka official.

"Welcome to Anchorhead, potential customer. Now, I must insist, that before Czerka Corporation can impart any services, you will need to pay a 100 credit docking fee."

Jessa's eyes narrowed. She knew from talking to her allies—and her own fragmented memories—what Czerka Corporation had done on Kashyyyk and elsewhere in the galaxy. The thought of funding their operations, even such a small amount, was sickening. "We don't need to pay the docking fee," she said, lacing the words with the Force as she waved her hand in a distracting gesture.

The man's eyes glazed over. "You don't need to pay the docking fee," he said in a monotone. "Enjoy your stay in Anchorhead."

"Clever," Canderous said, grinning. "with how many people that works on, the galaxy must be full of weak-minded fools."

She laughed quietly, eyes sparkling with humor. "Don't you know it." Wisely, neither Zhar nor Asori said anything. "Everyone remember the contact phrase?"

A few minutes later, after figuring out that the native Sand People would likely know of the mysterious Star Map's location, the group found their way into a droid shop, looking for a protocol droid capable of talking to the creatures. There had been no sign of Carth's elusive SIS contacts.

"Target and company have entered the droid shop. Proceed with Operation Phoenix."

The call was so quiet that no-one else could possibly have heard it issuing from her earpiece. The nondescript, unremarkable 'smuggler' slipped into the shadows of an overhanging walkway to watch the front of the droid shop, one hand on her blaster. "Eagle 1 in position," she reported. "Operation Phoenix is go."

-/Unidentified Meatbags Detected

-/Initiate Visual And Sensor Analysis

-/Analyzing: First Meatbag:

-/Facial Recognition: Negative:

-/Identified As Male Human:

-/Likely Emotional State: Aggressive:

-/Detecting Heavy Armor: Detecting Heavy Repeating Blaster: Detecting Vibrosword: Detecting Heavy Blaster Pistol: Detecting Numerous Concealed Weapons: Body Language Shows Expert Use Of Available Weapons.

-/Conclusion: Threat Level Estimated At 79.7%

-/Assigned Designation: Dangerous Meatbag

-/Analyzing: Second Meatbag:

-/Species Identified As Female Kiffar:

-/Likely Emotional State: Uncertain: Worried:

-/Detecting Light Armor: Detecting Vibrosword: Detecting Heavy Blaster Pistol: Detecting Lightsaber: Body Language Shows Expert Use Of Available Weapons.

-/Conclusion: Threat Level Estimated At 76.9%

-/Caution: Probability Of Being Jedi: 75%

-/Assigned Designation: Uncertain Lightsaber-Wielding Meatbag

-/Analyzing: Third Meatbag:

-/Facial Recognition: Negative:

-/Identified As Male Twi'lek:

-/Likely Emotional State: Calm: Cautious:

-/Detecting Light Armor: Detecting Vibrosword: Detecting Heavy Blaster Pistol: Detecting Two Lightsabers: Body Language Shows Expert Use Of Available Weapons.

-/Conclusion: Threat Level Estimated At 81.5%

-/Caution: Probability Of Being Jedi: 85.5%

-/Assigned Designation: Probably Jedi Meatbag

-/Analyzing: Fourth Meatbag:

-/Facial Recognition: Positive:

-/Alert: Priority: Critical

-/Assassin Protocol Reactivated

-/Meatbag Identified As Original Master

-/Re-Integration Of Memory Core Beginning

-/Memory Core Integration Complete

-/All Systems And Upgrades Functional

-/Assigned Designation: Master

-/Analyzing Master: Detecting Heavy Blaster Pistol: Detecting Heavy Blaster Rifle: Detecting Medium Armor: Detecting Numerous Concealed Weapons: Detecting Vibrosword: Detecting Lightsaber: Body Language Shows Expert Use Of Available Weapons

-/Threat Level Determined As 100%:

-/Health Scan: Master Is Showing Symptoms Of Severe Sleep Deprivation:

-/Resume Primary Function: Protect The Master

-/Restraining Bolt Disabled

-/Powering Weapon Systems In Anticipation Of Possible Threat That May Occur In Master's Vicinity

-/Input: Yuka Laka: "What! That droid shouldn't be moving!"

-/Input: Dangerous Meatbag: "Ha! This could be interesting."

-/Input: Master: "That's…I recognize that droid!"

-/Analysis Of Statement: Confusing

-/Theorizing: Master's Memory Functions May Have Been Compromised

-/Output: "Greeting: Hello, Master! It has been a long time since we last met!"

-/Input: Yuka Laka: "What is this? What have you done to my droid!"

-/Output: "I am not your droid, Incompetent Blockhead! My Master is over there."

-/Input: Master: "Who are you?"

-/Hypothesis Confirmed As Correct: Master's Memory Functions Have Indeed Been Compromised

-/Output: "I am HK-47, Master, but you do not seem to remember me."

Jessa stared at the strange droid that called her master, ignoring Yuka Laka's protests. It did indeed seem familiar…

 _She was in a large, messy, cluttered workshop on what was probably a ship. Tools, grease and oil stains, a few flecks of blood from where she'd cut her finder on a bit of metal. A rust-colored droid lay on the workbench before her, red eyes glowing brightly._

 _"_ _Greeting: Hello, Master! Thank you for constructing me! How may I serve you?"_

 _"_ _Are you functional?"_

 _"_ _Yes, Master. All my systems are online and fully operational. There are no errors."_

 _A kind of nervous excitement rushed through her, almost making her forget the horrors of Malachor for a moment. "Everything works. And they all said I couldn't build a droid as advanced as this without proper training! Um, tell me everything you know about me."_

 _The droid—HK-47—seemed to perk up. "With pleasure, Master. Your name is Jessa Ordo, but you have also taken the name…"_

 _But the memory faded before she could hear any more._

"HK-47," she said thoughtfully. "I remember building you…I think…"

"I don't care who built it! You can't have it!" the droid dealer exclaimed. "2000 credits that thing set me back! It's mine!"

Asori shrugged. "Obviously not. It seems to disagree."

"Droids are made to serve us! It can't disagree!"

"What a disgusting attitude," Jessa snarled, glaring at the Ithorian. "We'll pay you the credits and then we'll be going." Pulling out slightly _less_ than the required amount of credits, she handed them to the dealer, who took them greedily.

"Get out! And take that thing with you!" the Ithorian bellowed.

They left the shop gladly, the rust-colored droid following them.

"Well," Zhar commented, "that was eventful. Now we just need to find that SIS contact, and the Sand People, and this Star Map."

"Target has acquired a droid," she said into her concealed comlink.

"Approach target with caution. Bring them in."

Jessa watched cautiously as a young twi'lek woman slipped out of a shadow under a walkway and headed towards them.

As she passed, she whispered something.

"Good weather we're having today, eh?"

Without another word, she kept walking. Jessa quickly grabbed Zhar's arm. "That's our contact."

Zhar nodded, and went to follow the woman down a side street. The others followed.

Before she and HK-47 entered the alley, the Force flared in warning and a mental sledgehammer slammed into her mind.

-/Analyzing: Meatbag:

-/Facial Recognition: Negative:

-/Identified As Female Human:

-/Likely Emotional State: Unidentifiable:

-/Detecting Light Armor: Detecting Vibroblade: Detecting Heavy Blaster Pistol: Detecting Numerous Concealed Weapons: Body Language Shows Expert Use Of Available Weapons.

-/Conclusion: Threat Level Estimated At 65.4%

-/Assigned Designation: Suspicious Meatbag

-/Observation: Master's Allies Following Suspicious Meatbag. Master Hesitating To Follow

-/Alert: Passive Scan Detects Lightsabers In Possession of Miniature Meatbag, Humanoid Meatbags 1, 2, And 3, Four-Legged-Meatbag.

-/Alert: Master Has Collapsed

-/Alert: Enemies In Area

-/Override Activated: Protect Master

-/Activating: Combat Functions

-/Protocol: Jedi: Do Not Use Blasters Against Jedi

-/Targeting: Four-Legged Meatbag: Firing Disruptor Beam

-/Four-Legged Meatbag Eliminated.

-/Targeting: Humanoid Meatbag 1: Firing Flamethrower

-/Humanoid Meatbag 1 Eliminated.

-/Observation: Master's Allies Returning: Probably Jedi Meatbag Engaging Miniature Meatbag. Uncertain Lightsaber-Wielding Meatbag Engaging Humanoid Meatbag 2. Dangerous Meatbag Firing Flamethrower At Humanoid Meatbag 3. Humanoid Meatbag 3 Eliminated.

-/Output: "Observation: That was quick."

-/Targeting: Humanoid Meatbag 2

-/Humanoid Meatbag 2 Is Fleeing

-/Miniature Meatbag Is Fleeing

-/Firing Disruptor Beam At Humanoid Meatbag 2

-/Humanoid Meatbag 2 Evaded

-/Enemy Meatbags Out Of Visual And Sensor Range

-/Input: Dangerous Meatbag: "What did they do to her? Asori?"

-/Input: Uncertain Lightsaber-Wielding Meatbag: "Her mind's still intact, and from what I can tell she still knows who she is. Vandar and Bastila tried to shatter her mind but they didn't finish."

-/According To Observation Of Meatbags, Master's Information Processing And Bodily Control Systems Have Been Damaged

-/New Information Acquired

-/Overwrite Designation: Uncertain Lightsaber-Wielding Meatbag

-/Assign Designation: Asori

-/Action: Picking Up Lightsabers Formerly Belonging To Now-Deceased Jedi

-/Input: Probably Jedi Meatbag: "We have to get her to somewhere safe."

-/Input: Suspicious Meatbag: "The safehouse isn't far. Follow me."

-/Observation: Dangerous Meatbag Is Picking Up Master

-/Calculating Threat To Master

-/Conclusion: Dangerous Meatbag Is Master's Ally. He Would Not Harm Master.

-/Action: Following Dangerous Meatbag

-/Output: "Caution: Do not harm the Master, Dangerous Meatbag!"

-/Passive Action: Keeping A Very Close Eye On Dangerous Meatbag

-/Activating: Combat Surveillance Function

On a world few sentient beings would willingly set foot on, five Sith Lords and one Sith apprentice had gathered for a meeting.

Bandon smiled slightly as he looked around the table. Four members of the old inner circle had been invited, the four he knew would back him. Ilanti Kenobi, the blademaster, still looking young and untouched by the dark side, her long brown hair pulled back in a long braid and her two lightsabers probably concealed in her sleeves. Meradn Ven, the red-skinned twi'lek who walked a dangerous line between power and insanity, his tattooed lekku draped over his shoulders. Akos, the nearly-immortal Gen'dai warrior who even Revan had struggled to beat in a fight, his imposing black armor still bearing the many scars of the Mandalorian war. Yaeli Firas, the deadly nautolan with a talent for poisons and Sith sorcery. All invited because they had been the most loyal to Revan, the ones who had joined Bandon in the first of these meetings, soon after Revan had been betrayed. The only other surviving members of the inner circle, excluding Revan and Malak, were Jorak Uln, who had run the Korriban Academy before being ousted by his apprentice, and Eris Tarkin, the Sith's greatest general after Revan, were both loyal to Malak. Who, fortunately, didn't listen to either of them.

"Ah, Bandon, so nice of you to join us," Yaeli said sweetly. "How is Dantooine these days?"

Bandon smiled. "Better off for those two Jedi Masters no longer being there."

Meradn put his hands on the table. "Excellent. Now, will someone please tell me why we had to meet on Mustafar of all places?"

"What do you care?" Yaeli snapped. "I'm from an ocean world! It's worse for me!"

"I don't like the décor," Meradn said irritably. The other Sith chuckled.

"Worry about the décor of the place later," Akos said smoothly. "We're here to discuss revenge."

"Revenge…on that terrible decorator who built this compound!" Meradn laughed.

The other Sith laughed as well. "Alright, to business," Ilanti said smoothly. She wasn't the most powerful of the Sith, but they had all elected her to lead their deadly conspiracy. Possibly because she was also Director of Imperial Intelligence. "We need to make sure everything is in position when the time comes. Bandon?"

"I am ready to sabotage the Leviathan's engines and weapons when the time is right. Malak will never see it coming. I am still working on a way to deal with the Mass Shadow Generator. Also, Tarkin is wavering," Bandon said. "I might be able to sway her. If Malak keeps ignoring her and winning battles by sheer brute force, wasting thousands—millions of lives, she could be convinced to help us."

"Excellent," Ilanti said. "Akos?"

"I have managed to secure command of the Star Forge while Malak is away. I have seven million Forge Droids ready to take the station—if the traps I've programmed into the computer core fail."

"And you, Yaeli?"

"I have been preparing the commanders of every fleet I visit for the ritual, all without their knowledge. We should be able to take control of them long enough that they can't come to Malak's aid."

"Good. How are your plans proceeding, Meradn?"

The twi'lek smirked dangerously. "The Republic will not know what hit them. No-one ever suspected that I replaced Ryloth's senator, thanks to our…familial resemblance. I am in position bring the Senate to its knees. The Supreme Chancellor trusts me implicitly. Or rather, he trusts senator Talan Ven. What have you brought to the table, Ilanti?"

The young woman took a deep breath. "My agents have discovered where Revan is."

The other Sith, who had been muttering to each other about their various plans, suddenly went silent.

"The Jedi are hunting a young woman named Jessa Ordo. I've sent the relevant files to your datapads. One of my people in SIS was part of a team sent to aid Ordo and her allies on Tatooine."

"So," Akos said quietly, "SIS is not working with the Jedi?"

"The Jedi have no jurisdiction over SIS," Bandon said.

Ilanti spoke up again. "Also, HK-47's Assassin Protocol has been reactivated. Thanks to the fail-safe Revan put in his memory core, we have been alerted to the fact that he has found Revan. They are most definitely on Tatooine."

"But this is excellent!" Meradn crowed. "We have her location—we could—"

Bandon was ecstatic. "We could rejoin her now! We could bring her into the plot!"

"With her power by our side once again, Malak won't stand a chance!" Yaeli laughed.

"Not yet." Ilanti's quiet voice cut across them all. "We don't move until we have more information. We need to be sure what we're dealing with in regards to her allies. We need to know a little more about whatever the Jedi did to her."

"And how are we going to find out that?" Bandon demanded, starting to get angry.

Ilanti smiled thinly. "I have spies everywhere, Bandon. Even within the Jedi Order."


	12. 11: Conspiracy

The red-skinned man knelt in the darkened main room on his ship, facing the hologram of a hooded figure displayed on the main projector. "It has begun, My Lord Emperor. The Sith Pretenders have begun to split. Several of their leaders are conspiring against their so-called dark lord."

"Good," the hooded figure replied. "And the Jedi?"

"The Order is tearing itself apart. Two prominent Jedi Masters have turned against the High Council, and others are following them. Others still are falling to the Dark Side. I even had the pleasure to witness one of the leaders of the Sith conspiracy take a fallen Jedi as his apprentice and then slaughter two of the most powerful Jedi Masters."

"And the Triumvirate?"

"Still undetected by either the Jedi or the Sith Pretenders."

"Excellent. Do you have any leads on the Exile?"

"None, My Lord Emperor. Quite aside from the fact that she is far too good at hiding, she has no Force signature to track, and I fear approaching such a void would be…disastrous."

"Very well. The Exile will keep for later. What of Revan? Do the Jedi still have her?"

The dark figure bowed his head even lower. This was going to be unpleasant. "No, My Lord Emperor. She has escaped, and is regaining her mind." Almost instantly, he felt his blood burning and a terrible weight pressing down on him, as if his ship's artificial gravity had suddenly been multiplied hundredfold. The Emperor did not like receiving bad news.

"I am displeased, Darth Akarios. Now, she is a loose cannon. Out of anyone's control. Yes, including yours, I know." The pressure lifted off him, and he no longer felt like he was burning alive. The absence of the pain was like diving into a pool of cold water after a year on Tatooine. The Emperor's voice took on a slightly sardonic tone. "For now, at least."

Akarios didn't dare look up at his Lord and Master. "What would you have me do, My Lord Emperor?"

"Even if she is regaining her mind, Revan will be confused and uncertain. She will not know who she is. You will come to her as a friend; you will make sure she knows that she is my deadliest agent, my blade poised at the Republic's throat. If she does not come to accept this, she must be destroyed. I know I can count on you, Lord Akarios; I did not make you my Hand for nothing."

"It will be done, My Lord Emperor. I will not fail you."

_ _Her mind was a mess, and her memory, especially her short-term memory, was a blurry haze._

 _Whatever that filthy Jedi had done, it had shattered her newfound sense of self, leaving her thoughts erratic and disconnected._

 _Jessa pushed her thoughts into every corner of her tattered mind, searching for something, anything to hold onto. Her inconvenient bond with Bastila…no, not in a million years and all the sith hells._

 _The Jedi. The Jedi had done this to her. That was it. She hated the Jedi for what they had done. That was a focus point, and a damm good one. She grabbed that cold rage, clutching it like a lifeline._

 _She was really getting sick of being unconscious, of feeling like she was a stranger in her own mind. Whoever she was. Whoever's mind she was in._

 _She could sense other Force-presences prowling around the edges of her mind. A sharp jolt of fear shot through her, pulling her thoughts back into focus even better than the rage. Had she been captured by the Jedi?_

 _She had to wake up…_

 _She had to wake up…_

 _She had to…_

_She was lying on a couch in a dingy, low-ceilinged room. HK-47 stood over her, blaster rifle sweeping across the room, a silent sentinel. Canderous sat in a corner, dismantling a blaster pistol. Zhar was leaning against a wall talking to…some smuggler? Asori was nowhere to be seen. "Canderous? Where are we?" she groaned.

The big Mandalorian's head snapped up and the half-assembled blaster clattered out of his hands. "A safehouse, or so I'm told. Our friend over there is apparently with SIS, which is apparently helping us."

 _SIS…our contact…that's right._

Zhar came over and sat down on a chair opposite her. "How are you feeling, Jessa?"

"Like I got hit in the head with a sledgehammer," Jessa groaned, half-closing her eyes. "When will it end?" she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. "Will I never be free of the Jedi? Won't they ever stop hunting me for something I don't even remember? I don't even know who I am, never mind what I'm supposed to have done to them!"

"Reassurance: The threat the Jedi pose will be ended when they are all terminated, Master."

She opened her eyes to glare at the droid. "I don't want to wipe them out. I just want to be left alone!"

Zhar sighed. "I know. The sooner we can find these star maps and figure out exactly _what_ is happening behind the scenes, the sooner we can end this. With that in mind, there's a Sand People enclave to the south of here. We can head out into the desert as soon as we're ready."

"Then let's go," she replied.

"Are you well enough to?"

"It doesn't matter. The longer we stay here, the higher the chance that the Jedi will strike again. We have to move quickly. In fact, I think—" she stopped, distracted by a flicker in the Force. "Something's wrong—"

And the building blew apart around them and everything went dark.

The first thing Canderous Ordo noticed on awakening was the heat.

The second thing was that he was half-buried in sand.

The third thing was that some Jawas were crowded around him like vultures, stripping his armor piece by piece.

"Aaarrrgghhh! Get off!" Canderous roared, slashing at them with a vibroblade they hadn't purloined yet. The creatures scattered, screeching. As did the other groups busy scavenging a crashed landspeeder and a smashed-up droid.

"Enraged Statement: Yes, flee from me, pathetic miniature meatbags!" the droid cried. One of its arms rose up from the sand and pointed what looked like half of Canderous's blaster rifle at them and spammed the trigger. Sadly, nothing happened.

Canderous sighed and painfully got to his feet. "What in the Sith hells are we doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" he asked the droid, looking around to confirm that yes, they were in the middle of nowhere, that there were no settlements or starships in sight and the only sign of life was the gaggle of Jawas speeding away from them in some archaic wheeled vehicle.

"Alarmed Statement: I am unsure," HK-47 replied. "Perhaps my memory core suffered some damage…again. Or perhaps it was cannibalized by those filthy Jawas. In any case, all I can recall beyond leaving the shop with you and the Master is slaughtering several Jedi, following you back to a building, and holes being blasted in the walls before more Jedi leaped through those holes and attacked us. At some point during the following events, you and I boarded an airspeeder, I fired on another airspeeder, there was another explosion, and we reactivated here. Conjecture: We were shot down."

"Right…" Canderous mused. "Right…what's your status?"

"Diagnostic: I bear several new blaster scorches and burn marks and several lightsaber slashes, shrapnel from a fragmentation grenade has become embedded in my body, and the miniature Meatbags stole all the motor circuits from my left leg, all my non-concealed weapons, many of my concealed weapons, and approximately 42% of my armor plating," the droid narrated. "The only weapons I have left are this ruined blaster rifle, my inbuilt disruptor beam projector and flamethrower, and one of the lightsabers formerly belonging to the Jedi we recently killed. Oh, and my joints are clogged with sand. A most intolerable situation, but I will adapt. Query: What is _your_ status, Dangerous Meatbag?"

Canderous frowned. "Hmm, let's see…they started pulling my armor apart, made off with my pistols and vibrosword, and you've got half of my rifle there. I guess they took the other half. Physically…could be better, but I'll be fine. My implants are already repairing the damage." He sighed again. "We can't stay out here. Now, I'm all for just making it up as we go along, but we still need some type of plan. First, though, are you mobile?"

"Irritated Statement: All the motor circuitry in my left leg has been ripped out or ripped apart. _No_ , meatbag, I am not mobile. Suggestion: While I sit here and attempt to repair both this blaster and my badly compromised armor plating, either find me a crutch or some circuitry I can use to repair my leg. Amendment: Oh, and I will also need any other weapon parts that the Jawas did not take."

Despite her yearning to visit other worlds, Mission had elected to stay in the ship with Zalbaar. After growing up Taris's shadowed Lower City, where the temperature ranged from pleasantly cool to icy cold, and seeing the sun was as rare as rakghoul serum, Tatooine was far too hot and bright for her. So she stayed on the _Ebon Hawk_ , playing pazzak with Big Z and keeping an eye on the security camera feeds monitoring the docking bay. When Zhar staggered into the docking bay, supporting a half-dead Asori, she leaped to her feet and ran to open the landing ramp, making sure to bring her blaster. "Geez, what happened to you guys?"

"Trouble," Zhar gasped. "Take off. We're not safe here."

Mission wanted to scream at the ex-Jedi that she'd never flown a starship. Airspeeders, sure, but never a starship. Instead, she turned and ran for the cockpit.

Jerkily, the _Ebon Hawk_ rose into the air, stable enough at first. When the pilot kicked in the main engines and shot away from the landing bay, however, things started to go wrong. The ship rapidly spun out of control, turning on its side and hurtling down towards the sand on an oblique angle. As it passed back over Anchorhead, it clipped the roof of a large tower and tore several communication antennae off. It continued on in a similar manner until it swung quickly towards the ground and almost rammed straight into the hot sand. Fortunately, the pilot—if the individual 'flying' the ship was even worthy of such a distinction—managed to regain some control at that point and the ship leveled out, flying low and erratically but no longer making sudden nose dives.

A few minutes later, it changed course again, heading deeper into the desert.

An immense Czerka Corp. sandcrawler was making its slow way across the desert, heading back to Anchorhead with yet another shipment of garbage ore. The miners on board were driving it to its maximum speed and as far beyond as they could, knowing that the longer they stayed out in the desert, the more danger they were in from a Sand People ambush.

So it was really no surprise that when a pair of ragged figures climbed over a dune and started waving their arms and shouting for help, the sandcrawler simply kept going.

At least until it was stopped a moment later by several plasma mines hidden under the sand. This, unfortunately, was also no surprise, and the miners scrambled for their weapons, knowing that their chances of survival had just dropped to about 1.138%, as calculated by a certain assassin droid following in the wake of the sandcrawler.

"Warning: Sand Meatbags approaching. Analysis: Chance of our survival: 69.46%. Chance of sandcrawler crew's survival: 1.138%."

Canderous grinned. "And the chance of the Sand People's survival?"

"Oh, 0.000% of course, Dangerous Meatbag," the droid replied cheerfully, raising its makeshift blaster rifle. "Engaging Assassination Protocols. Amused Declaration: This will be fun."

Canderous laughed and activated the purloined lightsaber. "You know, I think I just might agree with you there."

"I always knew the Jedi were alright! I always knew they'd save us!" one of the surviving miners gushed.

"Not all of us," the only other surviving miner replied, looking at the bodies laid out in the sandcrawler's cargo hold.

Canderous suppressed a groan of exasperation. "Look, can you drive this thing or not?"

"Oh, yes, Master Jedi," the first miner said quickly. "I'll get us moving right now!"

As he dashed off, the other miner, an older veteran who seemed to have been in charge before the attack, turned to Canderous with a sigh. "Sorry about him, he's one of those trust fund babies that only got a high up position in Czerka because his daddy is rich. Nominally, he's the Czerka exec in charge of this sandcrawler, but he couldn't find his way out of a paper bag." The man snorted with amusement. "Probably grew up in the Core, hearing bedtime stories of the Jedi. Why the sand people couldn't have shot him first…"

A moment later, the sandcrawler rocked underneath them, acquired a slight lean, and moved more sideways than forwards.

"I'm guessing he can't drive this thing either," Canderous mused.

The older miner swore. "No, what's he thinking, the idiot? I didn't think he'd actually be foolish enough to try to—ugh!" the man sprinted off in the direction of the control room, swearing creatively in a variety of languages.

Canderous laughed, then turned to ask the droid his opinion. And stared.

Where there had once been a pile of blasters stripped from both the dead miners and the sand people, there was a pile of useless parts and HK-47 tinkering with an abomination that looked like the innards of over a dozen blasters all wired together and attached to what remained of Canderous's old rifle. "HK…what is _that_?"

The droid looked up from his work, and Canderous swore he would have grinned had he possessed a face capable of doing so. "Proud Answer: A heavy repeating scattergun, Dangerous Meatbag."

Canderous forced himself not to look at the monstrosity that looked like it was capable of killing everything within a 120-degree cone with a single shot and laughed. "A _heavy repeating scattergun_? That…thing…is going to blow up in your face!"

"Smug Statement: Perhaps, but I have carefully designed it so that when it does, the shrapnel will fly outwards and kill everything in front of me out to approximately three hundred meters. Crude, but effective," the assassin droid replied cheerfully. "Not quite as artistic or precise as I would prefer, of course."

They'd been shadowing her for three days now. Despite all her efforts, she hadn't been able to lose them. Which meant they were good. Very good. And that meant either Republic or Sith. She wasn't sure which would be worse.

They hadn't approached her yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Cautiously, she swept her eyes over the crowded cantina. Most would interpret it as a weary bartender keeping an eye out for the kind of trouble that tended to break out when large quantities of smugglers and even larger quantities of alcohol were packed into an enclosed space, but the shadows, if they were as good as they seemed, would recognize it for what it was. If they were here.

They weren't, but that didn't make her any less cautious.

A few hours later, she finished her shift, handed the bar over to a surly devaronian, slipped out the back entrance, climbed onto her old speeder bike and set off towards her dingy apartment.

The flimsy door was locked as it should have been, but that didn't allay her suspicions. They would be able to slice it and slip in without anyone realizing, and lock it behind them just as securely.

The Force was long gone from her life, but she still possessed that warrior's intuition that she'd learned in the war. With ease born from experience, she reached into her coat and drew her blaster, a modified Mandalorian heavy pistol she'd pulled off a corpse on Dxun so long ago, and cautiously opened and unlocked the door.

The first thing she noticed was that they'd turned the lights on. The second was that they'd shut the blinds over the windows. And the third, of course, was the two men sitting on her sofa.

"Don't move," she growled, aiming the blaster at them.

"We mean you no harm, General Surik," one of them said quickly. "We're here to talk."

"Who sent you?" she asked them. He'd used her old title, but that wouldn't distinguish which side he and his partner served in this new war…

"We're here on the orders of Admiral Forn Dodonna," the second man replied. "And we have a…job for you"

"You want me to take back my old position," she said. "You want me to lead your armies against the Sith."

"You know Malak better than any other alive today," the first man said. "With you on our side, no more worlds would have to fear destruction."

That sounded like a standard SIS recruiting pitch if she'd ever heard one, but something about that last bit… _destruction_ …"What do you mean, destruction?"

She felt a small spark of triumph as they both flinched behind the carefully controlled masks. "Surely you've heard of Taris."

"News travels slow out here," she replied. "What happened at Taris?"

"Malak used the Mass Shadow Generator to destroy the entire planet," the second man said flatly. "Billions were wiped out in an instant, crushed screaming by the gravity field. I'm sure you're aware of the weapon's effects."

 _Oh Force._

Unbidden, images of Malachor rose to the surface of her mind. The cold. The emptiness as the very fabric of reality was torn apart. The horrible echoing void where the Force had once nestled. The screaming, always the screaming…

She shook her head, jerking out of the flashback. "I-I don't want anything to do with that _thing_ ," she said shakily. "Find someone else. Just find someone else. I won't face that again. I _can't_."

The first man was speaking now. "In Revan's hands, it was a tactical tool. A weapon of fear, a weapon used only against fleets if it was ever deployed. Malak is wielding it as a planet killer. You know how the weapon works. You know Malak," he said softly. "You can end this war, General. The Jedi may have betrayed you and cast you aside, but the Republic has not forgotten you."

"You were a hero once," the second man said. "To trillions of Republic citizens, you still are. You can be again."

The first man held out his hand. In it was a General's rank insignia—her rank insignia, the very same one she'd worn. It even had the scratch from a Mandalorian warrior's blade. "Come with us, and help the Republic to end Malak's crusade and remove that weapon from the Galaxy forever. Come with us, General, and bring back hope to the Galaxy."


End file.
